Stage Name: Alec Fray
by AliceStoneheart
Summary: Tagline: Alec was raised by Jocelyn in the mundane world. Starring: Shakespeare's Perfect Idiot(s), A Hot Warlock, An Idrisian Villain (& Sons), The Nerdy Comic Relief, A Moody Artistic Teen, A Couple Of Hot Chicks. Cameos By: Canonical Background Characters Most Readers Don't Know/Care About. Created By: A Really Famous Author. Fanfiction Written By: A Broke College Student.
1. Chapter 1

Circa _City of Bones_

* * *

On Valentine's insistence, they left the children with Jocelyn's parents when they went to the Accords Hall to carry out the Circle's plan. Alexander had been crying when he was taken from his father's arms and deposited in Jonathan's crib by Granville Fairchild.

Held tenderly by his grandmother, Jocelyn's son, Jonathan, did not cry at all. His mother was nowhere to be found, his father marshaling his soldier-friends.

When the Uprising happened, Valentine abandoned his most loyal lieutenants to fight for a cause he'd stopped caring for. And when these soldier-friends returned, the Fairchild manor was burning.

Maryse ran towards the house, screaming her son's name as Robert caught up to her and held her back. The flames burned fiercely, consuming everything in sight. Valentine's final revenge against his once most loyal lieutenants, who betrayed him and laid down their weapons in front of the Clave, was complete. In death, he took with him their son, his own son and Jocelyn's parents.

* * *

Clary's sixteenth birthday was supposed to be fun. Alec did not find going to a poetry slam fun. But Clary, self sacrificing angel that she was, decided to indulge Simon's bandmate Eric (or was it Kirk? He could never tell the difference and didn't particularly care enough to start now). And being the older brother, Alec had been charged with bringing Clary home to their mother in one piece, come hell or high water. Alec just never imagined that damnation would come in the form of insufferably bad poetry featuring the poet's 'nefarious loins'.

"Is he done yet?" he whispered.

Clary gave him a scathing look and shushed him. Simon looked enraptured by the performance, well, it was either that, or he was constipated. Alec preferred to go with the former.

Five minutes later, the torment was (mercifully) over and they were heading back to the Fray's apartment in Brooklyn. Clary, being Clary, was begging Alec to take them to Pandemonium, the all ages club that he liked to frequent. Alec, being Alec and a total sucker for Clary's big, pleading green eyes, agreed.

* * *

When they got to Pandemonium, they didn't bother with the line. Alec sauntered to the front with his little sister and her bestie in tow and smiled at the bouncer who was arguing with some guy with blue hair. The bouncer smirked back at Alec, the kind of smirk that you gave someone you'd slept with. Alec gave the blue-haired guy and appreciative glance and whispered something in the bouncer's ear.

Clary looked a bit disillusioned by the time they got into the club. The blue-haired boy was standing a little apart from them. He looked like he was undressing Alec with his eyes. Alec didn't seem to mind.

"You think he's cute, don't you?" Simon asked Clary.

She flushed. "The boy with blue hair? Yeah, sure, and so does Alec."

Simon sputtered.

Alec who was barely paying attention to what they were saying, looked like he wanted to drag Blue Hair into a corner of the club and have sex. Clary snapped a finger under his nose. Alec's dark blue eyes instantly went from the beginnings of lust to annoyance as she pestered him to get them drinks.

"Absolutely not," Alec said, momentarily distracted from the hot guy. While he was lecturing them about the dangers of alcoholism, Clary saw the boy get lured away by the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen. Her hair was inky black, like Alec's, and she had the same confidence and elegance that Clary's older brother did. Once again, Clary was reminded that despite being siblings, she and Alec barely looked alike.

With a 'come hither' look on her face, the girl led the blue haired boy to one of the 'off-limits' areas of the club.

* * *

"Si," Alec said calmly. "Where's Clary?"

Simon looked up from the ground which he'd been uncomfortably staring at. His head whipped around almost comically. When they finally spotted Clary, she was heading back to them, cheeks flushed from exertion.

"Alec," she gasped. "They killed him."

"Clary, what-"

"The blue-haired boy!" she squeaked "They killed him!"

"Clary, did someone give you something to drink?" Alec asked, concerned.

"You're not listening to me, there was a girl and she took the blue-haired guy to that room over there and a blond boy went in after them and he had a knife or something-"

"And you followed them?" Alec demanded, speed walking to place Clary pointed out. "Simon, go get security. Clary, stay right here and don't move until Simon gets back."

He reached the door and pushed it open. There was nothing there. "There's no body," he said to Clary, who was right behind him despite his instructions. "And I thought I told you to stay outside."

"But Alec! Can't you see him? He's right there!"

"Who?" Alec asked, walking forward boldly. The door closed behind them. There was a strange flickering in the shadows for a moment and then he saw him materialise out of thin air. The golden boy covered in blood and ink.

Alec pushed Clary behind him so fast she had to grab onto the back of his shirt to stop herself from toppling over.

"Alec... are you...?"

"Yeah," Alec said, his voice quiet. "I'm seeing it."

The two boys stared at each other for a moment. "Who are you? Alec asked the blond.

"Not important," Blondie said cockily. "The real question is, who are you?"

A cry of pain came from Clary. Alec whirled around to see something wrapped around his sister's wrist, dragging her away from him. He caught hold of the rope - was that metal? - and pulled. A girl in a white dress fell out of the shadows.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alec said, trying to uncoil the whip from around Clary's wrist.

"Jace, they're mundanes. Why can they see us?" The girl who spoke was extremely pretty, dark-haired, dark-eyed, tall and slim as a willow branch.

The blonde boy - Jace - walked forward slowly. "Are they, though?"

"Listen, asshole," Alec said, putting a protective arm firmly around Clary's shoulders. "We don't know what you've been smoking, but we don't want any part of it. This was obviously a huge misunderstanding."

"We can't just let them go," the dark-haired girl said. "Hodge -"

At that precise moment, the door opened. Simon poked his curly head in. "Guys?" He said, pushing it further to show them the bouncer Alec had smiled at earlier. "Everything all right in here?"

Alec blinked. The whip slithered away from Clary's hand to curl around the dark haired girl's.

"They can't see us," Jace said. "I suggest you say that the little girl was mistaken and leave quietly." There was no indication that Simon or the bouncer had heard him.

Clary was shaking. "They're not here, I'm sorry, I think by the time we got back here, they escaped."

"Your friend said you saw them kill someone," the bouncer mused. "I hope you weren't lying kid, or I'd have to ban you. Your brother, too, and wouldn't that be a shame?" his eyes raked up Alec's body. "He's such a _valued_ patron here at Pandemonium.

"There's no blood or body," Alec said, studiously ignoring him. "Whatever happened here, they cleaned up really well. Is there a history of gang violence or something here?"

"Not that I know of, Blue Eyes," came the swift reply, "and I know most of what happens in this club."

The dark-haired girl snickered. Alec glared at her and then looked at Jace contemplatively.

"I'm taking my sister home." Alec said finally, steering Clary towards the door.

"Will do. Unless you're going to call the cops," the bouncer added dubiously.

Alec placated him with a, "Nah, if it is some kind of gang war, the last thing we want is to draw attention to ourselves."

"Understood."

"Come on, Simon. Let's go."

"What was that all about?" Simon asked, looking back into the empty room.

"Tell you later," Clary took his hand and dragged him along with her and Alec.

* * *

The director had been running them ragged for weeks, now, getting the script ready, the casting done and the rehearsal timings finalized for the performance in the beginning of October. Set design had barely started, costumes hadn't even been looked at, everything was very rudimentary, and it seemed like they would never be ready for opening night. To top it all off, the apartment was a fiasco when Alec got back from rehearsals, which wasn't all that unusual, but this time it was messy enough to make him stop in his tracks.

"What the... Mom?" He called out cautiously. "Clary?"

A weird black goo was contracting into itself in the middle of the living room, right next to the couch that was in bits and pieces. A curtain of red hair was splayed across the floor.

"Oh my go- CLARY!" He exclaimed, running up to his unconscious sister, kneeling beside her fallen form and then pulling her onto his lap. Alec tapped the side of her cheek gently. "Clary, wake up," he begged desperately.

She was breathing so shallowly he was sure she would stop any moment.

He felt blood on his hand and withdrew it from behind her neck. He felt his heart stop. Hospital. He needed to get her medical attention, pronto. Alec quickly lifted her small body up in is arms and was just about to exit the apartment when a gold and black blur got in his way.

"You!" Alec snarled, recognising him instantly from Pandemonium. If he hadn't been carrying Clary, he would have introduced the boy to one of his punches, or even better, one of his kicks.

"I got here as fast as I could, I didn't know the demons would come after you guys like this - " Jace started.

"What the fuck are you talking about? You know what, I don't care. Unless you're the one who did this to her because so help me god if you did you'd better be gone by the time I get back," he snarled, roughly shouldering Jace out of the way.

"Woah, listen up, dude, I'm here to help," Jace said defensively.

"Help?" Alec half-shouted, carrying Clary down the stairs. "She needs to get to a hospital. She has a neck injury. She's bleeding. From her neck. Do you know how dangerous neck injuries can be?"

"A hospital won't know how to - this is a demon bite." Jace said, pushing her head forward to bare the back of her neck, ignoring Alec's cry of alarm and letting him move away. "We need to get her to the Institute."

"Listen up, buddy, I don't have time for you're cultist mumbo-jumbo right now, my sister-"

"- will die if you don't listen to me, you hard-headed idiot!" Jace cut him off. "She's dying! From demon venom! I mean, come on, she must have told you what she saw at the club."

"She was hallucinating," Alec snapped impatiently.

"Oh, and you were too? Are you hallucinating me right now? Trust me, I'm too pretty to come from anyone's imagination."

Alec had the distinctive urge to punch the narcissist in the face, but his arms were carrying his sister out the door. A police car pulled up in front of the brownstone. He sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god, Officer. One of the neighbours must have called you. I need to get my sister to the hospital now, she's been attacked-"

The policeman snarled. Alec stumbled backward, barely keeping a hold on Clary as Jace practically flew forward and stabbed the cop in the abdomen with a glowing sword. As Jace yanked out his sword, the policeman exploded into black goo - which looked exactly like the one that was in the apartment upstairs.

"Holy crap," Alec said weakly as Jace finished off the other cop / demonic creature.

"Believe me now?" Jace asked, wiping his blade on the grass.

"You just killed a _cop,_ " Alec said, appalled.

"That wasn't a cop."

* * *

Alec rolled his eyes. "Someday, Simon, my sister is going to realise that you've had the hots for her since the two of you met and she'll date you. I can't imagine her not feeling the same way."

"Wow, wait a minute, I did NOT have the-"

"Right, I might be talking about another six year old with puppy dog eyes who use to trail after Clary in first grade."

Simon sighed.

"You know, you're a good guy, Simon. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Even if it's not Clary."


	2. Chapter 2

Circa _City of Ashes_

* * *

"He's your brother." Alec repeated blankly, a peculiar expression on his face as he stared at Jace.

Clary nodded, a lump in her throat.

"Jace. Can you give us a moment?"

Jace, also at a loss for words, nodded and left the room with a blank look on his face.

Alec sat his sister down on the bed with him.

"Clary, that doesn't change anything."

"It doesn't?" She looked stunned.

"I've got a new sister, you've got a new brother. So what? We'll always have each other. Always."

There were things unsaid between them. Alec avoided the very obvious elephant in the room. The elephant that Clary felt mortified to even think about. That Alec knew but wouldn't bring up because she was literally going to pieces as he said, "Come here, you," and pulled her into his arms. She cried quietly into his shoulder.

* * *

Alec frowned. "So you're telling me, you have had access to a warlock with a degree in medicine who is currently treating our comatose mother and you didn't BOTHER GETTING A DNA TEST?"

Jace looked at him in surprise. "What's DNA?"

"Shadowhunters are IDIOTS."

* * *

"Alec, meet Catarina Loss." Magnus waved his hand toward the blue-skinned warlock as if he were presenting a Van Gogh at an auction.

Alec grinned and held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Loss. Thanks so much for agreeing to do this."

Catarina blinked somewhat owlishly as if a shadowhunter being that polite to a warlock broke one or two laws of the universe. "Think nothing of it, Mr. Fray. Or is it Lightwood?"

Alec's grin turned into a grimace at the shadowhunter name as if he'd tasted something bad, but than he perked up again. "Fray, but just call me Alec. This is my little sister Clary and our friend Jace."

* * *

"Despite the fact that Valentine claims to be your father and raised you for the first ten years of your life, you claim that he isn't actually your sire?"

Jace nodded.

"That's exactly what he's saying." Alec unfolded the papers he'd been carrying with him and handed it to the Inquisitor. "We conducted a DNA test on Jace and Clary. It's a method of determining if two individuals share blood or not. If they were siblings, there would have been at least a 60% match. Conversely, we also tested his DNA with Clary's and my mother. There was no blood relation to either of them."

"And who are you supposed to be, young man?"

"Alec Fray. I'm Jocelyn Fairchild's adopted son."

"A _mundane_?" The Inquisitor half snarled.

"He's not a mundane, Imogen." Maryse pleaded. "He's my son. My son who we believed had died at the Fairchild manor after the Uprising. Apparently, Jocelyn was hiding him and Clarissa all these years."

The Inquisitor - Imogen looked sceptical.

"Surely you see it, Inquisitor Herondale. He looks just like our parents." Isabelle interjected.

"Enough." The Inquisitor snapped. "You're assuming that this mundane thing actually works on those of us with the blood of angels."

"You're not angels, Inquisitor." Alec said quietly.

"What did you say? What did you say to me, _boy_?" She asked in the kind of bitchy, no - nonsense tone that his middle-school math teacher had used when Alec hadn't been able to solve a problem on the blackboard.

He jerked his chin up defiantly. "You heard me. You are part human. You bleed red, just like humans do. And DNA is present in all beings of flesh and blood; humans, animals, all of them. If we had a sample of Valentine's blood, it would match Clary's but not Jace's. I'd stake my life on it. Would you do the same on the alternative? I dare you."

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT STAND FOR SOME TRUMPED UP MUNDANE DRIVEL FROM AN UNMARKED WHELP WHO THINKS HE CAN SPEAK TO ME WITH SUCH DISRESPECT!" Imogen roared.

Alec looked back at her calmly. "Unmarked whelp or not, I've presented our case to you, Ma'am. If you want to blame a sixteen-year-old for the crimes of the man who raised him, that's your prerogative." He stood up and collected the reports. "Jace may be a narcissistic idiot who can't help poking a sleeping dragon in the eye, but he's not Valentine's son. The Mortal sword will prove that he's no more loyal to Valentine than you are. Now are we done here?" Alec asked the last question with just enough insolence to make the Inquisitor's blood boil.

"We are not DONE, boy. You are a shadowhunter and you will show me the respect I am due," she snapped.

"Respect," Alec said sharply, "is earned. Sadly, you can't throw me into a jail cell for my lack of respect for someone who is only here to feed her vendetta against a psychopath - if, I'm not mistaken, her own son supported - by being unnecessarily cruel to a child young enough to be her grandson."

Imogen was speechless.

He took a deep breath. "Also," he added acidly "I'm no shadowhunter. I may have angel blood, but I would never be a part of an organisation that claims superiority due to the blood running through their veins."

And with that, Alec marched out of the room, DNA tests under one arm and his head held high.


	3. Chapter 3

Circa _City of Ashes_

* * *

"I'm very, very gay." Alec said.

Maryse gasped.

Robert turned faintly purple. It was not a good colour on him. "No son of mine would -"

"I'm not your son, Robert,"

"Alexander. What - what could possibly have turned you gay?"

"Turned me gay?" Alec asked with a thoughtful expression, as if the ridiculous question actually needed any consideration. "I was bitten by a gay radioactive spider," he said with a straight face.

Clary stifled a giggle.

* * *

"The first time I saw you, you must have been what, four years old?" Magnus said, pouring Alec a glass of wine.

"I don't remember it."

"Didn't think you would. You were born blind to the Shadow World, but Jocelyn still asked me to wipe the encounter from your mind." He handed Alec the full glass.

"Go figure." Alec said, taking a sip.

"When you came to my party with the shadowhunters the other night, I thought you were a Herondale."

At Alec's questioning look, Magnus continued, "One of the old Shadowhunter families. The last one was Stephen Herondale, he died before the uprising. His pregnant wife slit her wrists in grief. I wondered if you were his son. It wouldn't have been the first time a Herondale baby survived the death of his mother."

"Huh?"

"Tobias Herondale's child, although I suppose that's a story for another day."

"But I was born a Lightwood." Alec said bitterly.

"And Stephen's child would have been sixteen not eighteen."

"So there's no chance..." Alec trailed off.

"I'm afraid not. What do you have against the Lightwoods, anyway?" Magnus asked curiously. "Are you not happy about finding your real family?"

"Jocelyn and Clary are my real family. I don't really know Maryse. She didn't seem particularly receptive when she found out that I had no interest in being a soldier in some crazy war against the forces of pure evil and die before I hit thirty. And my fathe- Robert Lightwood is a complete asshole."

Magnus chuckled. "I could have told you that."

Alec looked up in surprise. "You knew him?"

Magnus' face darkened, but at the same time, he looked faintly nostalgic. "I've known several generations of Lightwoods. And Herondales, and Fairchilds and any number of Shadowhunter families."

"You aren't answering any of my questions." Alec noted.

Magnus sighed. "It's the blue eyes and the black hair that made me think you were a Herondale."

"Your favourite combination, you said." he reminded.

"Back in the eighteen hundreds, I knew the Herondales. One in particular - William - he was a friend. You look a bit like him. But that night, when I saw Isabelle, I knew who she was because she was wearing the ruby pendant I gave Will."

"You sure you were just friends?" Alec asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"Believe me, Alec, he was very straight." There was an indecipherable look in the warlock's eyes. "And I owed him. He gave the pendant to his younger sister, Cecily Herondale, who married Gabriel Lightwood."

"Wait, _Cecily_? They're my ancestors, they have to be."

Magnus shot him a questioning look and then shrugged. "Almost certainly."

"And my father?"

"I had the... _opportunity_ ," Magnus chose the word carefully, "of meeting your parents when they were on one of their... missions."

"Missions?" Alec took another sip of the wine.

"Not from the Clave. It was during their Circle days."

Alec went still. "What happened?" He asked, setting the wine glass down with shaky hands.

"I really don't think I'm the right person to tell you this, Alexander." Magnus said.

"My name is _Alec_. And I want to know."

Magnus looked like he wished he hadn't said anything. "I'm sure they regretted-"

"Tell me." Alec demanded.

And Magnus sighed and began narrating the tale of the last stand of the New York Institute.

* * *

"You're not my father." Alec said coldly, his blue eyes like chips of ice. "And she's not my mother. My mother is Jocelyn Fray. My sister is a short, bad-tempered, redhead named Clary."

The redhead in question punched him lightly in the shoulder. He gave her a fond smile, but then turned the full force of his glare on Robert Lightwood.

"I was brought up a mundane and I'll stay a mundane with great pleasure. I don't need the approval of a man who slaughtered his own kind on the word of a psychopath. I know what you did to the Whitelaws of this Institute before the Uprising."

Maryse gasped.

Alec shot her an accusing look and continued, "I was born this way and I'll live this way because I want to and because this is who I am.

"Clary and I, we have a life outside the Shadow World. And once this fiasco with Valentine is over, we're going back to it. You'll never have to see me again. I won't be what you want just because I have your precious angel blood."

Clary put a hand on his arm. "Alec, this is where we be-"

"Don't finish that sentence, Clary. We do not belong here. We do not belong anywhere unless we want to and the people who are already there want us to belong there. We've always had each other. We've never needed anyone else except Mom. Well, maybe Simon, too. But Mom's in a coma and Luke's got enough on his plate with handling the wolf pack. So if you want to stay here, fine. Go ahead. I'm sure Simon will let me crash on his couch for a couple of days. I can always join his band." He winked at Clary and kissed her on the top of her head. "After all, he does keep saying that they need someone as pretty as me." He smirked at Robert challengingly.

"Alec-" she tried again, tears glittering in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Clare-bear. I'll see you all the time. I'm just not a shadowhunter like you." Then he turned and walked out of the Institute.

* * *

Alec practically fell into Magnus' arms the second the door was opened.

"Alec, what-"

"Magnus," Alec murmured and kissed him with everything he had. His duffel bag swung forward and pulled him into the apartment with the weight of it, Alec let it slip off his shoulder and it hit the floor with a fairly loud thunk that neither of them even noticed as Magnus growled and kissed him back.

He magicked the door shut and pushed Alec up against it. Alec gasped into Magnus' mouth, his fingers digging into his back. Magnus' lips went to his neck and Alec bit his lip to stop a moan just as he felt teeth scrape against his skin.

Magnus lifted him up and Alec locked his legs around his waist and groaned, tipping his head back, chanting the warlock's name as if in prayer. Said warlock carried him across the apartment to the bedroom and laid him down gently. Alec sat up, threw off his T-shirt and unbuttoned Magnus' jeans.

"Wait," Magnus said, his hands on Alec's. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Alec looked up at him with his flame-blue eyes. "I want you. I want this. I don't care if I was born a shadowhunter. If being a mundane means that I can be with you, then so be it." He reached up and pulled Magnus in for a fiery kiss. "Do you understand now? It doesn't matter, who I am. I wouldn't be me without you. I'm Alec Fray. And I'm in love with you. I, Alec Fray, am in love with you, Magnus Bane. And no messed up supernatural fight club is going to stop me from being with the person I love more than words can bloody well say."

Alec finished his short speech and bit his lip again as he looked up at Magnus from under long, dark eyelashes, his cheeks flushed a light pink. "Unless... unless you don't..."

For a second Magnus stared at him uncomprehendingly. And then he came to his senses. "Oh, Alec. Of course I want this. I just didn't think you -"

"I do," Alec said fiercely.

That was all the answer either of them needed.

* * *

Simon stayed very quiet until she had finished and then he exploded at her. "Alec would never force you to go with him. He doesn't tell people what to do. He lets them make their own choices. And the choice you made? Clary, you chose staying with a bunch of hypocritical, fascist jackasses over your brother.

"Granted, maybe Jace and Izzy aren't like that, but from what I've heard, the Clave SUCKS. You chose staying with a race of people who will never accept your brother for who he is. You chose to stay with people who would rather Alec be dead than gay.

"Izzy told me that if Alec had been raised a shadowhunter and come out as gay, he would have been stripped of his Marks, maybe even executed. Are those really the kind of people you want to be a part of? I know I wouldn't. And neither would the person I thought was my best friend."

And then Simon hung up before Clary could say anything else.

* * *

As Magnus was dragged from Morpheus' sweet embrace the next morning, he was vaguely aware that he wasn't alone in his bed.

He slipped out of the bed and a tangled mess of dark hair on his pillows sent the previous night rushing into the forefront of his mind.

Sleepy blue eyes blinked awake at him. "Morning," Alec said, stretching in a way that did magical things to his biceps. He sat up, the blanket that had been covering them during the night pooling at his waist.

A vivid memory of Alec gasping as Magnus' tongue traced his abs made the warlock sit back down on the bed and think hard about what was going to happen next. Round two (or three or four or five)? Awkward conversation? Alec backtracking on everything he'd said as it being in the heat of the moment and running back to the Institute?

"Stop thinking so loud," Alec chided when Magnus didn't answer him, and pulled the warlock into a kiss.

"Alec - " Magnus murmured against his lips.

"I don't regret it. Do you?"

"No, I don't. I just don't think you realise what it means, to be in a relationship with someone like me."

Alec looked at him questioningly.

"Someone who's immortal."

"I'll age and I'll die. You won't. I think I've got it covered. I _have_ read the codex, you know."

"But doesn't it bother you?" Magnus asked cautiously.

"Honestly? It does bother me. The idea of growing older. One day I'll be old and withered and I don't know if... if you'll still want me."

"Of course I'll-" he protested

Alec kissed him, hard, and then said, "You don't know that. I don't know that. But it doesn't matter to me. We get the time we get. No more, no less. And I want to spend what time I have on this earth with you.

"But that doesn't make what we have mean any less. I won't ask you to be a hermit after I die. All I'll ever ask for is the truth."

"αλήθεια," Magnus read, tracing the black ink on Alec's shoulder. "Truth." Alec shivered at the warm touch.

"I didn't realise you knew Ancient Greek," Alec murmured, catching hold of the fingers trailing over his tattoo.

"I'm almost four hundred years old. I've picked up a couple of languages."

Alec looked adorably confused for a moment. "I thought you were eight hundred."

"I lied before." Magnus smirked, the kind of smirk that made angels weep and demons jealous, then it morphed into a tender smile. "But you asked for truth. So I'm giving it to you."


	4. Chapter 4

Circa _City of Ashes_

* * *

When the bell rang, Elaine opened the door.

"Hey, Mrs. Lewis," Alec said with an easy smile on his face.

"Alec Fray, is that you? Thank goodness, we've been worried sick since Clary called last night. Come in, come in!"

She held the door open for him and called Simon, who tackled him with an unexpected hug the second he got downstairs.

Alec nearly dropped his duffel bag.

"Simon," Mrs. Lewis chided, "stop throttling the poor boy and set him up in Rebecca's bedroom."

"Thank you, but that really won't be necessary, Mrs. Lewis, I can take the couch. I'm just going to stay the night. I don't want to be a bother, and I'm already looking for an apartment near NYU so I don't have to travel too far to get to my classes." He smiled his humble smile at her.

"Oh, you boys." She reached out and gave Alec a warm hug. "Terrible business, what happened to your mother. And to throw you out for something like being gay, I can't believe what kind of friends of the family they must be. I do wish Clary had come with you. I can't imagine her staying in such a toxic place."

Alec shot a questioning look at Simon, who mouthed, 'I'll explain later,' at him.

"It'll work out in the end, Mrs. Lewis." Alec said.

"Well, I certainly hope it does. But I insist. Ever since Rebecca went off to college, that room's been empty. There is absolutely no need for you to sleep on the couch. You settle in and stay as long as you want."

Simon was sitting on his bed and observing Alec with cautious eyes while Alec's fingers drummed over the keyboard.

"What?" Alec asked finally, swinging the chair around.

"You know, you don't have to start looking for a place right away." Simon said. "My mom meant what she said. Stay as long as you want. It might be better, you know. Go back to classes and rehearsals, catch up on your homework, figure out the mess that your academic life has become and THEN find a new place."

Alec sighed. "Simon, I appreciate - "

"Just listen to me, would you?" Simon interrupted. "You're the closest thing I have to a brother. You've saved my life. And okay, maybe you and Clary aren't blood related. Neither are we. But that doesn't change a god damn thing. Clary's got a new adopted brother, you've got a new sister, but you know what? You'll always have me. The mundie guy who's always been a part of your life and always will be. We grew up together. We discovered anime and manga together, we got lost in central park together, we walked to school together, we played together, we saw the Star Wars Prequel Trilogy in theatres together. And yeah, I know it hurts that Clary isn't your sister anymore. But I'll always be your brother. Because I'm still Simon Lewis and you're still Alec Fray."

"Damn it, Si, my allergies are acting up." Alec mumbled thickly.

Simon snorted. "You don't have allergies, you have Angel blood. But still, hug?"

"No homo?" Alec asked teasingly.

"No homo. I'm disgustingly straight, remember?"

Alec laughed as they hugged.

"Bros to the end."

"Bros who shoot arrows together," Simon said.

Alec raised an eyebrow. "I thought this was a no-homo thing?"

Simon blinked as he let go. "Huh? Oh - jeez, Alec, do you need to see phallic symbolism in everything?"

"Kidding, Si. But I _am_ a double major in English Literature and Theatre. It comes with the territory."

* * *

"Oh my GOD. I can't BELIEVE you managed to get us a gig HERE." Simon was clearly freaking out.

"I offered to blow the owner." Alec said casually.

"You WHAT?"

Clary snorted. "Ignore him, Simon. He just hasn't gotten over his Queer As Folk stage yet."

"Didn't he start watching that three years ago?"

"I did, yes, thank you for speaking about me as if I wasn't here, Simon."

"Sorry, Alec," Simon said apologetically. "But you just said - what you said. I can't even look at you, much less talk to you without my mind going to places I really don't want it to go."

"Looks like someone's got a dirty mind," Alec teased.

"Stop it, Alec." Clary said. "You're bullying my best friend again."


	5. Chapter 5

Circa _City of Bones_

* * *

When Clary was six, Alec was eight. They had just moved to a new neighbourhood in Brooklyn and Clary hated it. Alec did too, but he wouldn't say anything because Jocelyn had just looked so exhausted with the move that he felt awful just thinking about kicking up a fuss.

The next day, a little boy with wavy brown hair and big brown eyes was being taken to school by his mother from the house next door, and that boy was Simon. Rebecca, Simon's sister (as they found out five minutes later), had just caught the flu that morning.

Jocelyn had volunteered to take Simon to school with them for the rest of the week and Elaine had been so grateful she'd almost cried. A couple of weeks later, she had invited the Frays over for Hanukkah and Clary and Simon were practically inseparable.

* * *

When Clary was nine, Alec was eleven. It was Alec's last year in the same school as her and Clary hated it. Alec was smart, all the teachers said. They shouldn't keep him in middle school when he was capable of so much more.

Alec had something that was called a really high IQ - Clary forgot the number by the time the principal had finished explaining things to her mom. But it meant that she and Alec wouldn't be together.

On the last day of school that year, Alec made Simon promise to take care of Clary. When Clary protested (loudly) that she could take care of herself, Rebecca made her promise to take care of Simon, too. They pinky swore and the next day, all four of them were signed up for Capoeira classes offered by a Brazilian student at NYU named Leticia.

* * *

When Clary was twelve, Alec was fourteen. Now, Alec and Rebecca would drop their little siblings off at middle school every morning and go on to St. Xavier's. Alec was out of the closet, at least at home, and very much on his way to becoming the intelligent young man all the teachers said he'd be.

Leticia had gone back to Brazil, having taught Alec how to swear quite violently in Portuguese, much to Jocelyn's chagrin and the horror of his Spanish teacher at St. Xaviers.

Alec was also taller than their mother; _much_ taller, and people always assumed he was sixteen or even seventeen, because he was in high school, just two years away from graduating. Girls in Clary's class giggled when Alec would come to pick her and Simon up from school and they'd be nice to her the next day, as if that meant she would introduce him to them. She had ignored them quite imperiously, of course, Alec was _her_ big brother, after all. Simon had sometimes been nice to them, though, much to Clary's displeasure.

Before Alec had come out, Clary had wanted him to marry Rebecca when they grew up. Oh, well. Maybe Alec could just marry Simon instead, she'd thought nonchalantly.

* * *

When Clary was fifteen, Alec was seventeen, taller, broader, more confident and enrolled in NYU on a scholarship. He would give his mother and sister and Simon and Elaine (Rebecca was in college in New Jersey) tickets to the plays he had parts in.

Clary remembered one of Alec's friends from uni - a dark-haired, brown-skinned girl shorter than Clary herself - asking Alec in slightly accented English why he'd almost turned down the lead role in _The Glass Menagerie_ by Tennessee Williams and Alec replying that it was for personal reasons.

Later, after the production (which featured a single mother and her son and daughter and was set in the mid-20th Century), Alec had come and given his distraught mother a warm hug and said, "That's not us. I'm not Tom and you're not Amanda. You're nothing like her. You've always supported me. I'm here because of you and I love you, Mom."

And Jocelyn Fray had cried for the first time they remembered.

* * *

When Clary turned sixteen and Alec was a couple of weeks away from eighteen, he lay dying in the infirmary of the New York Institute, demon venom pulsing through his veins. As she cried over him hysterically and begged Simon, Jace, Izzy, _anyone_ to _do_ something, to save her brother because she couldn't fucking _live_ without him, she realised what the world would be losing if it lost Alec. A beautiful soul, a kind brother, a loving son, a dear friend, a dedicated student, a fantastic actor.

She remembered the tickets to his plays, tucked away in her sketchbooks, she remembered the smell of Alec's homemade chocolate-cinnamon brownies and of the ink of his recipe books. She remembered Alec, how he used to sweep her up into the air in his strong arms and spin her around when she was four, she remembered the beautiful calligraphy pens she'd found wrapped in shiny gold paper that Alec had hidden in her room, a gift for her sweet sixteenth - _Love, Alec_ , the card said - when she and Jace had been searching for the Mortal Cup.

Simon was beside himself with guilt because it was him that Alec threw himself in front of, it was for Simon whom Alec was bleeding into the white sheets of the hospital bed, his back arching up in agony, his mouth open in horrible, terrifyingly piercing screams that neither he nor Clary could have ever imagined Alec screaming.

Clary cried into Simon's shoulder. She cried helplessly as Isabelle drew iratze after iratze, but they just melted into his skin. She cried as Jace left to find Hodge but didn't come back, and she cried as Magnus Bane, the warlock who'd messed with her memory came running into the infirmary and threw them all out so he could heal her brother in peace.

And she cursed herself because this was _all her fault._ Alec was dying and it was her fault and all she could bloody well _do_ was cry. What a useless shadowhunter she was, she thought, curling up in a ball outside the infirmary door and Simon hovering over her, distraught with worry.


	6. Chapter 6

Circa _What to Buy the Shadowhunter Who Has Everything (And Who You're Not Officially Dating Anyway)_

* * *

Magnus leaned down and kissed Alec softly, slowly. Then he rolled and collapsed rather elegantly next to Alec. "Happy Birthday," he panted.

Alec tried to lift his head to acknowledge the birthday wishes, only to fall back weakly onto Magnus' pillows. He pursed his lips and blew a lungful of air out of his mouth and then breathed in deeply.

 _"Wow,"_ he gasped. "I didn't know you had that in you."

"Well," Magnus replied, turning his head to face Alec, "to be more accurate, you're the one who had it in _you_ just now."

Alec pathetically swatted at his shoulder. Magnus caught his hand and brought it up to his lips.

"So what do you want for your birthday?" he murmured against the smooth skin.

Alec laughed. "That wasn't it?" he enquired. "I know," he said shyly. "Tell me something I don't know about you." Alec twisted onto his side, legs entangled in Magnus' yellow comforter. He cupped his flushed cheek in his other hand and looked up at Magnus, who was gently trailing his fingers up Alec's arm.

"I once met Marie Antoinette," Magnus claimed.

Alec turned his head to look at him in shock. "No way."

Magnus grinned. "It's true. I even helped her escape."

Alec frowned. "Now I _know_ you're shitting me. Marie Antoinette was guillotined in 1793," he pointed out.

Magnus seemed to look impressed that he even knew that. "I said I helped her escape. I didn't say that she wasn't caught right after that."

"Tell me," Alec said, pulling Magnus closer and kissing his golden shoulder.

And Magnus narrated a tale of Paris, of vampires, of a desperate count, a disguised queen and of hot air balloons.

"Huh." Alec looked thoughtful. "You made out with a Count. Who knew?" he noted rhetorically.

"I tell you a riveting tale of my misadventures with one of _the_ most famous queens in _history_ , and that's all you got from the story?" Magnus demanded incredulously.

"Sometimes, I'm superficial," Alec answered teasingly.

Magnus groaned. "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Tell me something _I_ don't know about _you_."

Alec looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

At length, he said, "I almost converted to Judaism, once."

Magnus looked startled. "What? Why?"

"I like what it represents. It's more of a spiritual ideology rather than a religion. 'Jewishness disrupts the very categories of identity because it is not national, not genealogical, not religious, but all of these, in dialectical tension.' A Jewish historian named Daniel Boyarin said that. I thought it sounded pretty cool. Most religions offend my sexuality." Alec stated casually.

"I had no idea a sexuality could be offended." Magnus sounded amused.

Alec laughed and his eyes shone like starlight in the night sky. "That's what my crazy friend at archery club, you remember the one, we met her at that bar, once said."

If possible, Magnus looked even more startled. "You go to an archery club?"

Alec grinned. "My mom's going to-" he began, then his face fell and he cut himself off. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and took a deep breath.

"It's alright if you don't want to talk about it, Alec."

Alec sat up and put his head in his hands. "I miss her, Magnus. I know, I _know_ she isn't the woman who gave birth to me, but she _raised_ me. She _loved_ \- _loves_ me. I know she does. She had - she _has_ to. Because if she doesn't, then do I even deserve to be loved? By anyone? Hell, even Clary left me to go be a goddamn shadowhunter," he said bitterly. "What does that make me?"

"Alec, Alec, stop. You're just tormenting yourself like this." Magnus sat up. "Maybe not physically, but you're _hurting_ yourself." He pulled Alec close and kissed his forehead tenderly. "Clary hasn't left you, she's just made different life choices."

Alec looked away for a split second and then made eye contact with Magnus.

"Before all this crap with the shadowhunters happened, my mother was going to gift me a membership at the NYC Archery Club for my eighteenth birthday," he said earnestly. "I have this friend at NYU, yeah, the one from the bar, she's my co-lead in the upcoming play, and she's an archer, too, so she sneaks me in from time to time. In exchange, I take care of her bow. She can't keep it in the dorms." There was faint, fond smile playing on Alec's lips.

"Because it's a weapon?"

"Exactly, although I think if I didn't keep it hidden away, I'd give Mrs. Lewis a heart attack." Alec mused.

"I wonder what you would have been like if you'd been raised a shadowhunter. If you'd been trained to fight and kill from birth." Magnus said.

Alec scoffed. "I'd probably be stripped of my marks and executed when I refused to conform to the Clave's fucked up laws."

"As if I'd ever let that happen." Magnus' voice was firm as he traced a burning line down Alec's bare hip with his fingers. "I'd whisk you away where no one could find us, maybe we'd tour the world, and we'd get to do this," Magnus kissed him hungrily, "in every city."

Their eyes met. Alec shivered, smiled sweetly and leaned forward to kiss just under Magnus' ear. "We might have never met," he murmured.

"Nonsense." Magnus flipped Alec onto his back and brought their mouths together chastely. Well, chastely compared to what they'd been doing earlier. His cat-eyes pierced into Alec's blue ones. "You and I were always destined to meet, Alec. I believe that with all of my soul."

Alec blushed and looked away.

"But, for the record, I think that _if_ you'd been raised a shadowhunter, you'd be a closeted virgin in love with some reckless idiot you'd have to run after to keep safe like that blonde hottie - Trace What's-His-Face – well, up until I seduced you with my wicked ways, of course."

Alec bumped him lightly in the shoulder with his own, a highly offended expression on his red face. "I have higher standards! And when did _you_ start thinking Jace Not-Morgenstern is hot?"

"Oh, so that's what his name was. I was wondering. And yes, of course, I'm not blind, darling. But he opens his mouth and it all just goes to hell." The way Magnus said it was almost regretful.

"Huh. Well, I think he's repulsive." Alec said, looking up mutinously at Magnus.

Magnus wove their fingers together affectionately and brought Alec's hand up to brush his lips across the white knuckles again. "If it makes you feel any better, he's nowhere near as gorgeous as you. And you're just saying that because he's got the hots for your sister."

"Which one?" Alec grumbled, having momentarily (and mercifully) forgotten Jace's infatuation with Clary.

"Well, it's certainly not Isabelle. She's his _parabatai_ and she likes some spice in her life, that one. I doubt she'll ever fall for a shadowhunter, if she ever falls at all. That girl is trouble with a capital T."

"She called Simon nerd-hot. To his face. I thought he was going to pass out." Alec informed him.

Magnus roared with laughter. "Oh, poor Soames - "

"It's Simon," Alec corrected. "And I couldn't even give him the 'stay away from my sister or I'll hunt you down and hurt you,' talk. _He's_ probably the one who needs protection from _her_."

"Poor Stanley."

"Simon," Alec corrected again. "Also, I'm free-loading at his place until I find an apartment of my own. I can't exactly beat him up."

"Poor Stephen," Magnus was smirking again.

"Magnus," Alec warned, with a firm look in his eyes that made Magnus growl deep in his throat, pull one of Alec's legs around his waist, press him down into the bed with all his weight and attack Alec's lips, exploring his mouth as if he was a man dying of thirst and searching for a drink in the desert, curling their tongues together passionately.

Alec threw his other leg around Magnus' waist as well, tightening both limbs so that there was nothing between them, not even air, gasping when Magnus nipped at his lower lip in response.

His nails dug into Magnus' bare back, leaving crescent-shaped marks and then Magnus caught Alec's wrists and held them over his head with one hand while roughly grabbing Alec's leg again and pushing it up over his own shoulder.

Alec cried out ecstatically as Magnus ground him into the bed even further.

When Magnus promptly withdrew, letting go of Alec's wrists and sitting up, Alec let out a sound of protest in the back of his throat that he couldn't identify.

"What are you doing?" He asked hoarsely.

"You were trying to tell me something, remember?" Magnus teased. "I decided to stop distracting you."

Alec growled, wove his slim fingers in Magnus' hair and pulled him back down into a hot, messy kiss, tangling their tongues and limbs together like vines. "Don't stop again," he ordered when they parted for air.

"Or what?" Magnus challenged, pressing Alec's knee against his shoulder, his thigh against his chest.

"Or you'll find me on top." Alec said confidently, his blue gaze fierce.

Magnus smirked. "Kinky."

"Bet your ass it i- Oh, _God,_ " Alec moaned.

Magnus chuckled roughly and then growled into Alec's ear, "Not even close. I was alive when God was a little boy."

"Liar," Alec gasped, feeling Magnus move again.


	7. Chapter 7

Circa _City of Ashes_

* * *

The first time Alec met his current co-lead, she'd been turning a page in a book by Stephanie Meyer. _Please don't let her be a Twilight fan, please don't let her be a Twilight fan_ , he'd begged the universe.

"Are you a Twilight fan?" He asked out loud.

The girl looked appalled. "Oh, hell to the _no_ , not in a million years, Sweetheart," she snapped in slightly accented English.

Alec looked pointedly at her book.

"It's not a bad book, you know," she waved it at him rather aggressively. "Much better than that sorry excuse for a vampire story of hers," she said, "that eight letter word for _literary failure_."

Alec instantly relaxed into the chair next to her. "Is this the one with the body-snatching aliens?" he asked, tapping the cover of the book.

"Yup," she affirmed. "I like it. I like her style of writing in this one. Maybe it's just my love of sci-fi speaking, but I think she writes aliens way better than she does vampires and werewolves. You might want to give it a try," she continued, looking at him with serious dark eyes, "before going all judgemental on people."

She handed him the book so he could read the back. He caught sight of initials 'A.R.W.' scribbled on the corner of the last page.

"Sorry. My bad," Alec said contritely. "Can I make it up to you over a cup of coffee?"

What? Jocelyn had raised him to be a gentleman, straight or not.

She raised an inky black eyebrow. "As much as I appreciate the offer, you're not my type, Sweetheart."

"Can you not call me that, please?" Alec asked uncomfortably. "And I wasn't hitting on you. I don't exactly play for your team."

A faint splotch of pink covered the girl's light brown cheeks. "You haven't told me your name, yet," she said finally.

"It's Alec. Alec Fray," he said.

At this, the girl actually huffed. "Alec, huh? No _wonder_ you play for the other team," she said.

"You think I'm gay because of my _name_?" He asked her incredulously.

"Names are important. They tell you who you are. They tell you where you come from. I look at life as if it's a novel in which I'm a character," she said philosophically. "And every guy named Alec in all the books I've ever read is gay. Alec Campion, _Swordspoint_ by Ellen Kuschner, gay. Alec Anderson, _Falling_ by M. L. Rhodes, also gay. Alec of Kerry, _Nightrunner Series_ by Lynn Flewelling, G to the A to the Y-"

"Okay, I get it!" Alec laughed.

"The point is, they're all very tall, all very gorgeous, all very gay. I even have a cousin from my dad's side of the family, he's half-British, also Alec, also gay."

"Fascinating." Alec was half amused. "I guess it's just a gay name, then."

"Probably," she grinned, taking the olive branch he offered.

"So what's yours?" Alec asked, handing her book back to her.

* * *

She was a pretty good actor and a pretty good friend. She was a little over two years older than him. She could fake a really good American accent. She couldn't cook to save her life and despised 'chai-tea' from Starbucks. ("It's the same fucking thing - the redundancy is irksome, 'chai-tea'. They're the same word. And it's nowhere near good as actual tea. Coffee shops here can be so stupid.")

She played the Laura to his Tom in the NYU production of _The Glass Menagerie_ and was cast as the Maggie to his Brick in _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_.

And she was an archer.

If the both of them were straight, they might have gotten together, but since they weren't ("Thank god for that!" she'd said), they settled for the wackiest of friendships across the world. Alec sometimes wondered if he had a knack for drawing older girls as his best friends, first Rebecca, now her.

Then one day, not long after he and Clary blundered through the fiasco that was the Shadow World, she'd caught sight of the Voyance rune on his right hand when he wasn't wearing his fingerless glove and froze for a split second.

Then she'd said three words, "Cool tattoo, Alec," and he'd known something was wrong. What _exactly_ that something was, he hadn't figured out until he saw the strength rune carved in the small of her back several months later, after Valentine, after the Mortal War.


	8. Chapter 8

Circa _The Course of True Love (And First Dates)_

* * *

There would always be a time when Alec Fray looked back on his first date with Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn and laughed until his sides ached, because it was the most fortunate, hilarious, _disaster_ that ever happened to him.

* * *

The trip on the F-train that Friday was probably the most entertaining subway ride Alec had ever taken. The fact that it was his first date with Magnus had just made journey more ridiculous because they were faced with posters about impotence with despairing elderly couples looking at each other.

He was saved from asking Magnus, who was sitting next to him and staring at the same posters in a sort of horrified mortification, exactly how impotent one gets at the age of eight hundred, when they were presented with a pair of subway performers who began rapping, 'The Butt Song,' while one of them was beating a drum right under his nose.

Alec roared with laughter and tossed them a five dollar bill when they were done. "Wish I could afford more, boys, but being a broke college student has its' limits," he said regretfully.

"Nah, bro, just hope you liked the song." The dude with the drum said.

"It was fucking hilarious," Alec complimented, offering the guy a fist for a classic straight-guy fist bump.

Magnus was intrigued by the entire debacle but contented himself with giving the performers a lot of money and laughing his arse off.

* * *

Then there was the incident on the subway platform with the redhead, and this time the redhead in question wasn't Clary.

As Alec gracefully threw the pickpocket onto the ground and planted his boot firmly on the guy's chest, he began screaming about ninjas at the top of his lungs.

Within the space of five minutes, Alec discovered that he would, in fact, be a coveted gem in the world of acting because of his cheekbones, eyes, and the ability to do his own stunts. He accepted a business card from a pretty girl with dreadlocks and butterfly clips from a talent agency, managed to get her and a horde of subway commuters determined to buy tickets to his next play ( _Cat On a Hot Tin Roof_ ) and found out about Magnus' multiple highly dangerous wallets (especially the Varvatos one that apparently bursts into flames).

Also, Alec may have permanently reformed the ginger pickpocket with lessons in honesty and tolerance, or so Magnus said.

Magnus himself was stunned, because of all the things he imagined Alec being, a stage actor was not one of them. If Robert and Maryse Lightwood were dead, they'd be rolling in their ash-filled graves in the City of Bones.

* * *

Luigi, the owner of Ethiopian-Italian fusion restaurant that Magnus had taken him to, said that Alec had better not make any moves towards his other customers which (predictably) pissed Alec off to no end.

"Not a shadowhunter, thanks," Alec denied testily. "Just a mundane actor with the Sight."

"The rune on your hand says otherwise, angel boy," Luigi said.

The only marks that Alec had was the Voyance rune on his right hand and a couple of faded iratzes on his chest, hidden by his light blue shirt.

"Harmless tattoo," Alec said, rolling up his sleeves to show Luigi muscular arms bare of any runes or rune scars. "And the mutinous looks your waiter's giving me says that I'm probably going to get poisoned. Look, dude, I don't care if you draw a pentagram on your kitchen floor and raise a demon while I'm eating dessert as long as there's no slime in my plate. I mean, would one of those stick-up-their-asses shadowhunters really be on a date with this hot hunk of a warlock?"

"Hot hunk?" Magnus repeated, extremely flattered.

Alec winked at him and gave him the kind of smile that could light up New York City during an electricity blackout. "What? I had to let you know somehow. I don't ask out every guy that gives me his number."

"I really want to kiss you right now," Magnus blurted out, before he could stop himself and think about what he was saying.

Alec tutted. "At least buy me dinner first. Although yes, I suppose I do want to kiss you too. Well, I want to do much more than that, but we've got company and I don't think I'm an exhibitionist. At least not yet," and Alec then winked at Luigi, too.

Luigi spluttered and then attempted to clear his throat in a dignified manner.

Alec grinned and said, "Look, buddy, I think the Clave is a bunch of fascist, moronic, dictators with shitty attitudes. Now are you going to give us a table or do we have to go to a mundane restaurant? I mean, Magnus did say this place was the best, but you can never go wrong with pizza."

Luigi laughed. "Oh, I like this one, Magnus. He's a firecracker."

Alec turned ever so slightly red. Magnus looked at him and opened his mouth, but Alec snapped, "No. You are not calling me that. Ever."

"But-"

"I might not be a shadowhunter, but I've studied capoeira since I was eleven. I will kick your ass if you call me that. Especially around my sister."

"Firecracker." Magnus chuckled, finding Alec's glare quite endearing.

Luigi looked very amused. "So, where would you guys like your table?"

* * *

"I heard what you said about shadowhunters," the waiter said, "it was a beautiful speech," he sniffed. "Hello, I'm your server for this evening. Can I take your order?"

"Woah there, buddy, you look like you're about to fall apart." Alec stood up, concerned, and steered the waiter into his chair. "Sit down, what happened?"

The waiter (his nametag read Erik) wiped his eyes dramatically on the tablecloth. "A shadowhunter killed my uncle, and it's been really hard to make ends meet since then."

Alec spent the next five minutes commiserating with Erik, whom he soon found out was a werewolf, had four baby sisters to feed and had to work the double shift to do so (Erik also insisted that his uncle was innocent, but Alec reserved judgement on that for a later date).

When Magnus sent Erik away with their orders, Alec said, "Poor guy," shaking his head sympathetically. "To have a loved one be snatched away by such conniving-" and he went on a rather creative rant until the food came.

Magnus himself was torn between roaring in laughter (for the second time that evening) and marvelling at Alec's ability to mock his own race in some of the most inventive ways he'd heard, yet.

* * *

At some point, Richard, one of Magnus' exes walked into Luigi's with an entourage of faeries, approached their table and snarled something about warlocks enchanting years from one's life at Magnus.

"Years?" Magnus protested, "it was barely twenty minutes!"

Richard replied with some nonsense about time and the fair folk, picked up Magnus' wine glass and dashed it at him.

That was the moment Magnus fell hard for the crazy not-shadowhunter he was on a date with, because Alec jumped in front of Magnus and let the drink splash against his face and shirt. "A gentleman never lets someone else throw a drink at his date," he said simply.

Richard growled in frustration, at which Alec merely scoffed, called him a pretentious dickhead, kicked him in the balls and told him to get the fuck out. Then Alec turned to Magnus and said, "If that was an amicable one, I'd hate to seen what the non-amicable ones are like."

All of this was said and done with scarlet wine running down his pale neck, soaking into the light material of his fairly tight shirt and making it stick to Alec's skin, a sight which made Magnus want to lick it off. Slowly.

The faeries did not look happy with the state of their latest toy, but backed off when Magnus' cat eyes narrowed at them.

There was something different but unbelievably sexy, maybe even magical, about Alec Fray and Magnus Bane wasn't going to let anything get in his way of finding out just what it was that drew him to the Child of the Nephilim whom was nothing like the rest of his kind.

* * *

AN: I usually despise authors' notes in the story but I really want to thank the people who have reviewed (I adore your reviews. Give me more!) and stuck with the story so far. It means a lot to have support in any fandom.

The second half of _The Course of True Love (And First Dates)_ for the AF verse is coming soon.

Kisses,

A.S.


	9. Chapter 9

Circa _The Course of True Love (And First Dates)_

* * *

Magnus had once believed that he was cursed. There were many reasons for this, being born a warlock, his mother's suicide, accidentally killing his stepfather, his unending misfortune when it came to love because of his immortality, etc. Things had improved over the centuries, but he'd been slowly losing hope until Alec had walked into his party.

So when he got the call from Catarina about the werewolf tearing up a bar not far from Luigi's he felt like it was his cursed luck making him fuck up the best date he'd had in decades.

Alec, to his credit didn't accuse Magnus of trying to ditch him, but at the same time, Magnus could see the disappointment in his blue eyes.

"Alec, believe me, if there was a way for me to stay, I would. I really would," he said, "and I'm not ditching you. There really is an emergency,"

"I get it, Magnus, emergencies happe-"

As if on cue, Alec's phone began ringing.

"Clary?" Alec said.

Magnus heard hysterical shrieking on the other end. Alec winced and held the phone slightly away from his ear and yelled, "Calm down! How do you – You _what,_ now? _Luke's_ phone? But you're not even telling me – what about the other – Fine, I'm on my way."

Alec snapped his phone shut and said, "Emergency. Gotta go. Call me?" He shot Magnus an apologetic smile as he raced out of the restaurant.

Magnus dashed after him. "This emergency of yours," he asked, running up next to Alec, "it doesn't happen to be at Beauty Bar, does it?"

Alec glanced at him sideways, "Let me guess, that's where your emergency happens to be, too?"

Magnus nodded and grabbed his hand, pulling him to a stop. "Mr. Fray, would you honour me with the opportunity of escorting you to our mutual emergency via portal?"

Said portal was already open. Alec gripped Magnus' hand tighter and said, "Of course, Mr. Bane, would you be so kind as to tell me what your emergency is?"

"Downworlder business. There's a rogue werewolf in the bar we're going to."

"Son of a bitch, she didn't mention _that_ in her phone call," Alec muttered.

"What was that?"

Alec shook his head. "Let's go, I'll explain when we get there. I guess you really weren't ditching me after all."

"I would never," Magnus proclaimed as he circled Alec's waist with a strong arm and leaped through the portal.

* * *

Outside the Beauty Bar was a petite girl with light brown skin and a head full of long black curls herding people out the door. A long, bloody scratch marred her left arm.

The last of the customers were out and fleeing the scene when she slammed the door shut and caught sight of them.

Magnus felt his companion stop in his tracks.

"Alec?" exclaimed the girl.

"Adrienne?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" they asked at the same time.

"I feel like I'm missing something important here, but we've got a raging werewolf on the loo - " Magnus began.

"Shut the fuck up, dumbass!" the girl snapped, glaring angrily.

"Adri, what's wrong?" Alec said, shooting Magnus an apologetic look as he started forward.

She caught hold of his sleeve and yanked him back. "Please don't hurt her, Alec, please, if we were ever friends, ever, just -" the girl began crying, making Magnus feel a little less pissed compared to when she'd told him to shut up.

"Adrienne," Alec said firmly, grabbing hold of her shoulders and shaking her vigorously, "I don't know what you're talking about and I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

Adrienne took several deep breaths and pointed at the door. "Marcy's in there."

"Your girlfriend is stuck in a bar with an out-of-control werewolf? And you left her there?" Alec half-yelled, throwing the door open, flying in and completely forgetting that -

"She's a mundane, Alec!" Magnus protested, following Alec with the girl at his heels.

"NO, YOU NINCOMPOOP, SHE _IS_ THE WEREWOLF! DON'T GO IN THERE!" Adrienne yelled at the same time.

Everyone paused for a second at the entrance. Marcy-the-werewolf (who was in the middle of ripping out a sparkly pink seat with her claws) regarded them with wild, curious eyes.

"You're telling me that _that_ is _Marcy_." Alec said, never having imagined that he'd be introduced to Adrienne's girlfriend this way.

"Yes, that's her," Adrienne said, her voice shaking. "It's my fault, I encouraged her to – to try and live a normal life - "

"Your girlfriend is a werewolf?" Magnus asked, not judging because Woolsey had been a fantastic lover back in the 1880s, excessive biting aside. He was just a little stunned that Alec had a mundane friend who was dating a werewolf. What were the odds?

"Yes, dumbass, I just said that!" the mundane friend in question's angry voice broke him out of his thoughts.

Any sympathy Magnus had for the girl would have been disappearing fast if he hadn't noticed how her fingers were shaking and her trickle of tears just turned into a waterfall. But she was clearly terrified for Marcy, not herself. She knew what shadowhunters did to rogue werewolves.

"Come on, guys," Alec said, enthusiastically grabbing hold of Magnus' hand with his own and Adrienne's with the other. "We've got a werewolf to catch."

Adrienne looked like she wanted to drag him away from Marcy, who was slowly advancing on them. "I know it's your job, Alec, but please don't hurt her," she begged.

"I knew the rune freaked you out," Alec said knowingly, "but don't worry, Adri. I'm not a shadowhunter."

* * *

Half an hour later, Magnus and Alec dropped Adrienne and an unconscious Marcy (a fetching blonde in human form) (Alec wrapped her in his jacket because her dress was practically shredded) at Adrienne's apartment.

"I'll launder the jacket and give it back as soon as I can," Adrienne said, tucking Marcy in after putting her in pajamas.

"Don't worry about it, Adri," Alec said, picking it up and folding it over his arm.

"But - " she began.

Magnus snapped his fingers and the scratch on Adrienne's arm closed up. "Should have done that earlier," he said.

"Thanks, Mr. Bane," Adrienne said.

Magnus looked appalled. "Magnus, please," he insisted.

"I called you a dumbass. Twice. God, I can turn into such a raving bitch sometimes. I'm so sorry."

She really did look sorry.

"It's alright, darling," Magnus said agreeably.

She gave him a grateful smile.

"So do I," came a hoarse voice from the bed.

"Marcy!" Adrienne exclaimed and scampered into the bedroom, throwing herself into the blonde girl's arms.

Marcy said guiltily, "I turn into a raving bitch too, you know. It's what got us into this mess," and she kissed Adrienne's temple softly.

"Oh, god, you're alright," Adrienne cried into her neck.

"Oh my g – Your arm, Adrienne! Did I… ?" Marcy trailed off, looking at the dried blood on Adrienne's arm in horror.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Adrienne said, kissing Marcy chastely. "Nobody's hurt. I promise."

Alec caught hold of Magnus' arm and led him to the door. There would be time to talk to Adrienne and Marcy later, when everyone wasn't about to collapse from exhaustion.

They walked to Magnus' apartment, hands clasped as they tried to stay upright.

"Nightcap?" Magnus asked as they climbed up the stairs.

"Sure," Alec agreed as Magnus magicked the door open.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on one's point of view), after two portals and subduing a werewolf, that one trick made his knees give out. Alec caught him before he hit the floor, but in doing so ended up sprawled under Magnus.

"Sorry," Magnus said, blinking quickly. "My magic levels must be lower than I thought."

Alec smiled up at him softly. "Emergencies will do that to you," he said, feeling Magnus' breath on his lips as he leaned down tentatively, as if dazzled by sunlight even though there was no sun and the New York sky was devoid of stars.

When they kissed, anything Alec was thinking flew right out the window.

Alec had never kissed anyone the way he kissed Magnus. Or maybe it was just that nobody had ever kissed him the way Magnus did.

Then again, Magnus had (Alec assumed) been kissing people for centuries. He probably had making out down to an art form.

If Alec hadn't been burning and floating and melting and flying at the same time, he might have been tempted to ask Magnus how people kissed in different centuries, in different places, in different social classes.

But Alec was _burningfloatingmeltingflying_ –

He felt Magnus' fingers on his skin, felt his own hands exploring the dip and ripple of the muscles of Magnus' broad back almost of their own accord, felt the lines of their bodies fit together perfectly, and thought of nothing else, preferring to lose himself in this wonderful man who had made their kisses catch fire and his blood sing in his veins.

* * *

Well? What do you think of the big reveal? I bet some of you thought I was going to saddle you with OCs. Ha! Got you! (I do not do OCs. Or self inserts. They irk me very much.)

For those who aren't aware, Adrienne and Marcy are characters from the tenth story of The Bane Chronicles. I actually wish CC would bring them back, but meh, you can't have everything.

Review, please, my dears.

Also, I'm aware that I've changed the name of this fic, but 'Alec Fray' was always supposed to be a place holder until I figured out an actual title. 'Stage Name' is what I've decided on for now and I doubt I'll be changing it.

As always, thank you so much for your support.

Kisses,

A.S.


	10. Chapter 10

Circa _City of Bones_

* * *

"You don't think I'm a slut." Isabelle stated simply, taking off her heels.

"Of course not," Alec said, snapping the Shadowhunter's Codex shut and setting it down on the table. He was curled up in Hodge's favourite armchair, still sipping from the mug of hot chocolate she'd seen him making before she'd left.

"Kick whichever asshole who called you that in the balls," he suggested. "Nobody should be slut-shamed, no matter who they sleep with. Ever. I'd slaughter anyone who dared to say anything like that to Clary."

"Where _is_ Clary?" Isabelle asked, dropping the subject and her heels on the ground and sinking into the chair across from Alec.

"Asleep. How was your evening with your hot faerie boyfriend?" he countered.

"Adequate," she said with a half-smile.

He raised an eyebrow. "Just adequate? I hope you gave him pointers."

Isabelle laughed. "You know what? I think I like you."

"Don't like me too much, Isabelle. I'm gay as a pride parade."

"That's very specific," she noted.

Alec grinned. "It is, isn't it?"

He had a nice smile, Isabelle thought. And his eyes were very blue, even bluer than her father's. He looked a little like her father. Maybe he and Clary were descendants of shadowhunters - maybe even Lightwoods - and that's why they had the Sight.

She told him so.

"We would be cousins, then," Alec said. "What's it like to be a Shadowhunter?"

Isabelle pondered. "It's like being a soldier. Your siblings are your comrades, they fight by your side. Your parents are also your commanding officers - I think that's what mundanes call it - first and your parents, second. We're governed by the Clave and Council. There's no time for the arts, like drawing for pleasure like Clary prefers or drama and a life on the stage like you do."

"Who told you - no, wait, Clary, obviously." Alec interjected.

"She really loves you, you know, that sister of yours. That girl would tear the world to shreds for you." Isabelle almost sounded impressed.

"I'd do the same for her. I'd walk through fire, I'd raze whatever got in my way. That's what it means to be the older sibling," Alec told her.

She gave him a knowing look. "I've got a younger brother, you know," Isabelle provided. "His name's Maxwell but he hates it, so everyone calls him 'Max'. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost him."

Alec shushed her. "Bad thoughts prelude bad luck," he said.

"Who told you that?" Isabelle inquired.

"A good friend," he said. "A good friend who is a fellow student of theatre and a lover of art. She'd be quite appalled at the thought of a people without the arts. Despises Plato's tenth volume of 'The Republic,' with a burning passion, actually."

"What's Plato?"

Alec paused. "Don't take this the wrong way, but don't Shadowhunters study philosophy?"

Isabelle sighed. "Alec, we're half-angel warriors. We study the art of war. Our nursery rhymes are hymns to banish demons and our bedtime stories are tales of our origin and the greatest shadowhunters over the ages. We're taught from birth that we have one purpose in life: to protect humans, kill demons and police the Downworlders. It's who we are. It's all we have."

"That sounds awful." Alec took another sip of hot chocolate. "And it's three things."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "It's not all bad. Love might come second to the cause, but when a shadowhunter loves someone, it doesn't matter if it's agape, eros or philia, it's a love that lasts."

Alec looked thoughtful. "Your parents must really love each other, then. I guess you're lucky in that sense, you grew up with both parents. Not that I ever felt like something was missing in my life, my mom wa - is the best mother I could ask for," he said quickly. "She raised Clary and I after our father died and made sure we had everything we needed. I'm the person I am today because of her."

"That's nice. Not your father dying, that's horrible, but that you had your mom. She sounds like a good woman."

"Yeah. But I sometimes wish my dad had lived," he said wistfully.

"Do you remember him at all?" she asked.

Alec paused, his mug halfway to his lips. "No. Well, sometimes I get these impressions, but nothing really substantial. He was a soldier, died at war months before Clary was born, I don't even think I was two when he passed. His name was Jonathan Clark."

"Jonathan, huh?" Isabelle mused. "That's a very popular shadowhunter name."

"Oh, right. I know, he was the first one," Alec said, tapping the codex with a slim finger.

Isabelle said, "Jace is named after him."

"He is?"

"It stands for Jonathan Christopher. J.C. Jace," she explained.

"Huh." Alec said, with an air of mild interest. "Speaking of Jace, doesn't he play the piano? Clary said something about running into him last night."

"She did, did she?" Isabelle teased.

Alec glowered.

Her suggestive smile instantly vanished. "In all seriousness, we are encouraged to learn a musical instrument when we're younger. You can't really fight until a certain age, and before that, children need something to teach them discipline, concentration, dedication. Etcetera."

"Ugh," Alec said. "Wow. They even suck the fun out of music. What instrument do you play?" He asked.

"The violin."

"Oh, dear god, please tell me you don't play Paganini." Alec said.

Isabelle looked at him funnily. "What's wrong with Paganini?"

"I don't care much for him."

"But he's the best!" Isabelle insisted.

Alec said, "Maybe so, but the best are often the most popular, and the most popular eventually become overused and boring."

She considered his words. "I won't deny that I prefer Tchaikovsky," she allowed.

"Oh, he wrote _The Nutcracker_ and _Swan Lake_ , didn't he?" Alec asked. "Clary loved the Barbie movies of those two, but she was like, ten, so don't give her a hard time of it."

"What in the world is a Barbie and why would I give Clary a hard time because of it?" Isabelle was curious.

Alec looked scandalised. "Wait, you didn't watch the barbie movies when you were - oh, right, shadowhunter, my bad. I have to introduce you to it sometime. Still, we'd love to hear you play Tchaikovsky. Where's your violin?"

"It's up in my room, somewhere, I haven't played in years. Jace and I used to try and play a few pieces together before we had our _parabatai_ ceremony, but afterwards it was so much easier to match each other's playing that it got boring. Mom and dad used to say they could hear angels singing when we played after we became _parabatai_ , but we lost the fun we used to get from trying to stay in harmony," she said, making a face. "We used to have the worst fights about who messed up, but we'd always make up in the end. Anyhow, Meliorn's trying to teach me how to play the lyre these days."

"Really? Damn, that's one hot faerie, am I right?"

"He's a knight of the Seelie Court. And also, back off, he's mine," she said seriously

"Isabelle, I'm pretty sure if he's into you, he probably isn't into me," Alec reassured her, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Don't be so sure, most faeries are notoriously bisexual," Isabelle informed him curtly.

"First of all, there is nothing wrong with being bisexual. I hooked up with a pretty bisexual college boy last week and he was at least an 8.2 on a scale of 1 to 10."

"8.2, that's specific," she noted again.

Alec flashed her a bright smile. "Secondly, if this Seelie Knight does decide to dump you, even in a pathetic attempt to get into the pants of a hottie like yours truly, he doesn't deserve you. What he'd deserve, my friend, is to be stomped on with those six inch heels of yours."

"Seven inches, Alec," she corrected. "Always remember my motto: nothing less than seven inches. Well, I say motto, it's actually more like a golden rule."

"Don't I know it," he laughed. "On a more serious note, it's almost eleven, I should probably go wake up Clary."

"Absolutely not. I'll go and wake Clary up, I need to help her get ready for Magnus Bane's party. You go find Jace and see if he has anything you can borrow."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Alec asked defensively, crossing his arms over his Pokemon t-shirt. It had what appeared to be an extremely dizzy Pikachu on the front.

Isabelle scoffed. "It's a party, not a hipster poetry slam with cartoon fanatics."

Alec gasped dramatically. "It's not a cartoon, Isabelle. It's anime."

"I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that seems to be the running theme for most of this conversation. Don't worry, I'll introduce you to the joys of the mundane world soon enough."

* * *

Hello, again, my darlings! You called? I know, two updates in a week, I must be inspired. Here's some Izzy, I know she's been sorely neglected in this fic so far, but she's one of my favourite characters, so here she is. She's slightly different from canon, but I think I've kept the essence of her. For those curious about the state of this fic, I have several chapters in various stages of completion, it might be another week or so before I update again, but I'll try my best.

Reviews, reviews, give more,  
My fingers ache and eyes are sore.

Just kidding. Thanks for the support, you guys. Remember, I always love and need constructive criticism.

Cheers!

A.S.

(P. S.: anyone who's been following this fic since the beginning, I recently did a read through, fixed some errors and updated the previous chapters, so go back and read them if you'd like.)


	11. Chapter 11

Circa _City of Glass_

* * *

The Book of White was what they'd come for. It was supposed to be a simple mission

But it all happened so fast that nobody had the time to stop it. Loss, tragedy, sometimes they took time to unfold, but this time it was like it bore down on them in the blink of an eye.

They had made their way down to the cellar in the Wayland manor, the cellar that Jace could have sworn he knew nothing about.

The things they found there - bones, remains and so on made Clary's stomach turn; some of them looked human.

Others might have been animal, but Jace was knowledgeable enough to know the difference between fae bones with iron spikes driven through them and werewolf ones with silver.

Alec had gone pale when they reached the other end of the cellar.

There was a pentagram of runes on the ground, angelic runes, and within them lay a pair of enormous wings, white arches of snowy feathers spreadout like fallen snow.

They looked like they'd been ripped out of someone's back.

"Angel's wings," Clary breathed. "They're real. Alec, Jace, _they're real_!"

Alec reached forward, almost as if hypnotised.

"I don't believe it." Jace murmured. "Nobody's ever..." he trailed off in awe. Nothing in his entire life had prepared him for this. Angels were a story to him, a myth. They were the legends of his bedtime, the one unknown of the Shadow World. And here were wings. Divine power, and he could feel it calling out to him. There was no mistaking it. This was the light and the might of heaven.

"Alec, what are you - what are you doing?" Clary exclaimed as Alec walked into the pentagram without a care in the world and broke the spell Jace was under.

" _En upaah_ ," Alec said, only it sounded more like he was singing or crying the phrase rather than speaking it.

Tears trickled down his face, as he gathered the pale feathers up in his arms. " _En malpirgi_ ," he cried softly.

"Alec?" Clary asked hesitantly.

Alec whirled around to face them, snarling, and his eyes were gold, a pure, molten, angelic gold, neither like nor unlike Jace's. " _Pasahase de'en amma dobitza_ ," the words were cutting, harsh, and they were aimed at Clary.

He started towards her, rage in his terrible, terrifying eyes.

Jace threw himself in front of Clary, but he needn't have bothered, Alec - or rather, this creature that was no longer Clary's older brother, couldn't leave the pentagram.

" _Amema elasa_!" he roared in fury.

"Alec!" Clary shrieked, shoving Jace out of her way and racing forward. The runes blasted her back.

Jace saw a flicker in Alec's eyes, and for a split second, they were blue again. "Clary?" He asked, half in surprise half in awe.

Then they were gold, and he was hissing at them in the strange language, once more.

"Alec?" Clary asked once more, her voice high and uncertain.

Alec fell to his knees, choking horribly. "Clary – Clary, run. There's something in me, it's taking over, it's tied to this place, get out, get out, GET OUT!" he was roaring the last sentence, clutching at his head. Tears streamed down his face, golden tears which fell onto the wings in his arms.

The wings began to glow gold and then Alec began to glow more golden than gold. His black hair shone, his back arched up, the veins in his arms were no longer blue.

Gold began to encroach into everything around him, the floor, the ceiling, the walls.

The artist within Clary saw what the end of the world would look like if it was caused by divine vengeance, by godly wrath.

And then she saw a sliver of the light of her brother's soul break through it.

"Jace!" Alec yelled with the last dregs of his control and sanity. "Get her away! Now!"

His eyes turned gold, and then, Jace couldn't tell if it was in the strange language or English, but the being roared out an order; _"In the name of the angel Ithuriel, in the name of Heaven, I command you, children of the blood of angels, to leave this place. Leave!"_

His eyes flickered back to blue.

" _Leave this place and live!"_

Jace caught hold of Clary, threw her over his shoulder and fled.

* * *

When Alec woke up, he was chained up and on the floor of a forest, his back against what he assumed was a tree. His vision was blurry, his throat sore. His head was throbbing like someone was banging on it with a hammer, a loud, painful 'thump-thump, thump-thump,' or maybe that was the sound of his heart.

"The boy's awake, Father," the voice was familiar, chilling.

Alec blinked once, twice, three times. "Seb – Sebastian?" he whispered, but that couldn't have been right, Sebastian had dark…

"Well, he's certainly coherent enough to recognize me," the white-haired boy said, reaching for Alec, grasping his hair and yanking his head backwards painfully so he could trickle a few drops of water down Alec's sore throat.

"Jonathan Morgenstern, at your service," he said, "though you probably remember me as Sebastian Verlac," the smile that graced his face was charmingly dangerous. A couple of years ago, Alec would have willingly hooked up with a boy smiling at him like that. Now, it just looked sinister.

"Son of a bitch," Alec said in amazement when he realized what the name meant.

"Why, yes, I am indeed," Sebastian-Jonathan said, "and so are you, for that matter," the grin got wider.

"Go to hell," Alec snarled, and spat in his face. Grimacing in disgust, Sebastian wiped his cheek with the back of his hand and struck Alec across the face. A trickle of blood spilled from Alec's lips.

"Jonathan," another familiar voice said coldly, "I've told you what will happen if I hear you insult your mother," Valentine, fair-haired and dark-eyed like his son and just as handsome, came into the line of Alec's vision, the mortal sword sheathed at his waist.

Alec froze.

Valentine put a finger under Alec's jaw and turned his head this way and that in a perverse parody of a doctor's examination, sliding his ring finger over the golden blood. "And I told you not to harm our divine little guest."

"Our divine little guest, Father, is fine. It's the delicate meat holding him here that's been… manhandled," Sebastian said, his sadistic grin returning tenfold.

"Oh, you don't have the balls to manhandle me," Alec scoffed, spitting out a glob of blood, this time into the ground, "it takes a real man to satisfy me and you, Valentine Junior, you couldn't satisfy me if you tried," his dark blue gaze pinned Sebastian fiercely.

Valentine let go of Alec instantly. "Disgusting. I see the rumours are true. It is my great misfortune, to have put Ithuriel's soul into the body of a catamite," he said disdainfully.

"Well, if the shoe fits, Dr. Evil. Can I call you 'Dr. Evil'?" Alec asked amicably. He'd been called worse in high school. "Or would you prefer something more evil-sounding, like, 'The Great Evil Lord of Evil', or 'Doctor Doom' if you're a Marvel fan, or-"

"Gag him. I need the angel inside him, not his incessant meaningless blabber," Valentine ordered, cutting him off and turning away.

"Hey, there's no need to get testy," Alec jerked his head out of Sebastian's grip, "Not everyone can pull off a supervillain name, wait, what the fu-" and then the rest of his speech was cut off with a pocket-stale handkerchief stilling his tongue. He swore through the cloth at Sebastian, who only smirked at him.

"Don't worry, ladies should be seen and not heard," Sebastian said in a mockingly kind voice, tapping his cheek gently. "We're doing this for your own good."

Alec made a muffled sound of indignation, then something that vaguely resembled a death threat, but the white-haired boy laughed it off and leaned down to whisper in his ear, "You should know, since you despise shadowhunters so much, I took it upon myself to get rid of one for you. Max Lightwood, ring a bell?"

Alec froze. Max, tiny Max, barely ten years old... Morgenstern had killed him. The same Morgenstern straightened up with a cold smirk, dark eyes piercing almost triumphantly into Alec's blue ones as he backed away and went to speak quietly with his father. At length, Valentine returned alone.

"Your feet are going to be released and you will walk where you are lead. If you try to escape or attack me, I will put a seraph blade through your heart. Nod if you aren't fool enough to misunderstand," he said imperiously.

Alec nodded. He wasn't going to try and escape. As Valentine released his feet, he swung his leg up to kick him in the face. "I would have preferred it if you didn't make my task any more difficult than it has to be." Valentine said, he caught it firmly and snapped. Alec let out a muffled shriek of pain as Valentine twisted, his vision swerved back and forth and then everything went black.

* * *

The alternative language used in this chapter is Enochian. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost track of the original English translations for them (they were in a notebook of mine which seems to have vanished), but you're more than welcome to look them up. I used a couple of online translators (All Hail Google Search!) for all of it.

Also, my computer's being sent for repairs today and I might not get it back for at least a week, so sorry in advance. I've got several chapters in progress (some as far as Lady Midnight) but I don't think I'll be able to put anything up until July.

Hope you like this chapter.

Cheers!

A.S.


	12. Chapter 12

(If you've been following this story and have jumped straight to this chapter, go back and read chapter 11. It's been updated. Like, seriously. It's double the length it was in June.)

* * *

Circa _City of Glass_

* * *

When Alec came to the second time, he was laying by Lake Lyn. He could tell that time had passed, daylight had faded away, leaving the sky a deep, midnight blue. He tried to move, but the pain ripped up his broken leg, making him cry out through the gag. Valentine came to stand over him and nudged him with his foot daintily, as if Alec was an old toy and one he didn't particularly care for anymore.

The strange golden blood in his veins was healing the break, knitting the bone together slowly, but steadily.

Then Valentine reached down and slid the mortal sword across Alec's collarbone, drawing more blood from the deep cuts he left there. He stepped on the broken leg hard, the nauseating _crunch_ of re-breaking bone audible and agonizing enough to make Alec dizzy, the gag muffling his cries of pain. The sword cut another arc down Alec's arm. Gasping, he felt tears trickle down his face and wished he could be more dignified, but there was nothing dignified about being helpless.

"I knew that putting Ithuriel in a nephilim body was going to be a risky," Valentine said, raising his sword to eye level and examining the golden blood staining it, "but I needed a safe place to store it. A child was the best choice, the younger, the better. But my son had already been infused with demon blood. Jace already had Ithuriel's blood, but the angel, as much as I tortured him, refused to enter his body. If I had known about Clarissa, maybe I would have used her instead. After all the chances of a vessel accepting the angel would have been higher in an unborn or perhaps a newborn child."

At Clary's name, Alec tried to get up, but Valentine put a foot on his chest and forced him back down roughly. Alec felt his ribs crack as his back hit the ground hard.

Valentine took his foot off Alec's chest and wiped it on the grass. "After the Uprising, I was going to take you away, raise you with Jace, or maybe separately, as a third son. If I had, maybe you wouldn't be what you are, with the disgusting proclivities you have," he said the last line distastefully, "but Jocelyn, dear Jocelyn, got to you first. I suppose you were what she wanted; a perfect, untainted child, even if you had an angel inside you. She stole you from me," Valentine almost looked regretful s if losing Alec left a hole in his heart.

 _I don't belong to you_ , Alec wanted to snarl, _I don't belong to anyone_. But he couldn't even breath without feeling like he was being ripped open from the inside.

"And she raised you instead. She raised you to be soft. Pathetic," he snarled the word, "Like a mere woman, your only worth now is what you carry within yourself. I would have made you strong. Jocelyn, my dear wife, made you weak. She made you weak on purpose. She does not love you. She merely wanted to keep another tool from me."

Alec began laughing through the gag, and then winced as the movement grated at his broken bones. Valentine looked down at him curiously. "Is something funny, boy?"

His eyebrows raised while maneuvering his chained wrists, Alec gestured at the gag as his captor contemplated him and, at length tugged the gag free, smiling benevolently as if Alec was a petulant child he was indulging.

"You're a fool, has anyone ever told you that?" Alec asked hoarsely. "Probably not, they must have been too petrified to enlighten you, in that case, let me do the honours. My mother is strong, stronger than you are and stronger than you'll ever be. She raised two strong children by herself not because she was scared of you, but because she was smart enough to know that the shadowhunters were corrupt, that they let people like you get away with everything. She may have gotten me out to keep me out of your hands, but she _loves_ me. I'm her son and I'll be her son till the day breath leaves my body for good. I know that, like I know she loves Clary, like I know I love Clary and Clary loves us, like I know you're going to fail, because nothing you say will change a goddamn thing," Alec said as he coughed up blood.

"You've chained me up. You've taken my ability to walk. You have me beaten and wounded at your feet but not once will you convince me that I am not loved because of who I am or what I have inside me. I'm loved. I have loved. I've made my peace with my life. What does that tell you, Morgenstern? What does the fact that the boy you've beaten down has everything you want? The love of the woman you love. The loyalty of more people than you'll ever have because you're a monster and you'll have to face it sooner or later. You'll think what you want, believe what you want as long as you want to and you'll drag yourself down into your own hell. But you'll never take me with you."

Valentine backhanded him across the face. "Pretty words. You do like to hear yourself speak, don't you?"

"Nah," Alec replied, spitting golden blood into Valentine's eyes and bringing his other leg up to kick him in the face, this time connecting successfully with a very satisfying _crack_ , "but monologue-ing always works as a great distraction," he finished as Clary attacked Valentine from behind.

Valentine smashed her back and wiped the blood from him eyes simultaneously, using the Mortal Sword to catch a blow from Clary's seraph blade on it.

"Clarissa," Valentine said finally, knocking her backwards, "I knew you'd come for him, though I do wish you'd show the same loyalty for your true brother."

There was a scuffle. Clary was good, for having less than a month of training, but Valentine was better. Alec lay helplessly, a bound heap of broken bones and bleeding cuts, the last of his strength expended. Feral with anger, Clary snapped forward, but Valentine knocked her back once more and then, spinning out of the way of her next blow, poised his sword over Alec's heart.

"Drop your blade, silly girl. I need a sacrifice, but it doesn't have to be him. Come, dear daughter, he was so sure that you love him, this false brother of yours, he told me as much-"

"Clary, no!" Alec yelled, pushing the pain to the back of his mind, adrenaline pumping through his veins once more. "Clarissa Adele Fray, don't you dare listen to him, get out of here right now, I mean it, or so help me go - "

"Ah, ah, ah," Valentine said, pushing the sword tip into Alec's chest just enough to draw blood again. "Be quiet. Let your darling sister make her choice."

Clary dropped her seraph blade in an instant.

"NO!" Alec roared, ignoring the blade digging into him. "Clary, he can't kill me, he won't kill me, I've got an angel - "

"Inside you, I know," Clary said wearily, raising her hands. "But that won't make a difference. He'll kill you all the same. You're not the angel, you're the vessel. Mom told me. She's awake." her green eyes were sad, so sad, _why are they so sad, why is she sad -_

"Clary, no… Clary… please... DON'T DO THIS, PLEASE!" he screamed as Valentine began carving an ancient looking rune into his sister's skin. "Take me," he begged Valentine, who wasn't listening. "Take me, not her," Alec's voice cracked.

"It's okay, Alec, you've spent your life protecting me. Now it's my turn." Clary gasped and fell forward, her body stiff and her voice silenced. Valentine caught her and lowered her almost tenderly to the ground in a sickening parody of paternal love.

Alec whimpered in pain as he tried to drag himself along the lakeside to her, blue eyes blinded with tears, shackled hands reaching out for her. Valentine snapped his other leg and then reached down and carved the same rune over Alec's heart.

He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. All he could do was watch, bound and silenced. He could watch blindly, even though his heart was shattering.

It shattered for Clary, dearest to his heart and about to die at the hands of her father. It shattered for his mother, whom he'd never see again, never talk to about the mess their lives had become and ask her the one question he told himself he knew the answer to: _Do you really love me, Mom?_

It shattered for Luke, who would never get to have the four of them together as a family at his farmhouse ever again. It shattered for Simon, his baby brother in all but name and the first person he came out to outside his family, and Rebecca and Elaine, his scripts and notes and textbooks scattered over Rebecca's old bedroom floor.

It shattered for Adrienne, dear Adrienne, human as they came and still his best friend through all the shit he'd put her through in the last month and a half, blowing off rehearsals and telling her he needed space. He'd never be on stage with her again, with the lights and the crowd and her wide grin as they bowed to the audience.

It shattered for Max, the dead brother he didn't really get to know but had so much in common with. It shattered for Isabelle, the sister he wished he'd known longer than a few achingly short weeks, long enough to teach her to make chocolate-cinnamon brownies again and again until she got it right.

It shattered the most for Magnus, the love of his life and the one person he wanted to spend it with, for the broken dreams of love and life and laughter and lust and everything Magnus had coaxed and burned and ingrained and branded into him in so short a time, with passionate kisses in the dark and making love in the light and warm cuddles at dawn and heated gazes at midnight.

He remembered Jace bursting into the clearing, remembered Valentine murdering the only person he claimed to love in cold blood, a sword still coated in Alec's blood through Jace's heart. He remembered the angel Raziel rising out of Lake Lyn, calling out to his brother trapped inside Alec's body, and words from the strange tongue falling from his lips in Ithuriel's voice. He remembered something being ripped out of him, a piece of his soul, perhaps, the pain worse than anything he'd ever felt before, worse than the broken ribs and broken legs and demon venom. He remembered a soft, warm glow when the same thing that had been ripped from him engulfed his body.

He remembered knowing nothing after that.

* * *

Hey there!

I'm SORRY! Please don't kill me! I know I said this would be uploaded in July but I've had computer troubles all this time. In the end after trying to get him repaired three times, I had to let go of trusty Sir Junk-In-A-Box (my old desktop), which broke my heart (into a thousand pieces, he's been with me for years) and am currently typing on a really pretty, sleek new laptop I've yet to name. I think this one's a she, though, so I'll have to name her Dame - something... or... something...

Moving on, this chapter's for the people that have stuck around despite the lack of updates. I love you guys, you're awesome, thanks for reading and reviewing, if you've reviewed. And even if you haven't, thanks in advance.

A.S.

(Because you'd better review.)

(I kid, I kid.)

(But do I?)

(Why is this so addicting? It it an A/N thing? Are fanfiction writers supposed to get addicted to leaving A/Ns?)

(Okay, I'm going to stop now.)

(You know what? Can someone criticise me, please? Something like, 'Hey, Alice, that line sucked.' or 'Your characterisation of 'x' was WAY off.' I'd appreciate it, thanks.)


	13. Chapter 13

Circa _City of Glass_

* * *

Alec opened his eyes to two blobs of red hovering in front of him. He blinked a couple of times, when his vision cleared a bit, he saw his mother's and Clary's heads on either side of him on the bed he was laying on. each of them was holding one of his hands.

"Mom?" his voice was hoarse. They mustn't have been sleeping too deeply, because both heads instantly perked up at the sound of it.

"Alec, oh god, my baby," Jocelyn cried and practically flew to crush him in her embrace. "Oh, thank the Angel, you're awake."

"What happened?" Alec asked, "The last thing I remember Valentine was..." he squinted.

"Valentine's dead," Clary said.

"He's _what?_ "Alec exclaimed.

"Raziel knew what he'd done to Ithuriel, what he'd done to you."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Alec said, "With the mortal instruments, he should have had complete control over Raziel."

And Clary told him about how she tricked Valentine, about, ' _Mene mene tekel upharsin_ ,' and Alec laughed. "He never saw you, never saw how brilliant you were, what you were capable of. Serves him right. By underestimating you, he brought an end to his empire and the beginning of a new one."

Jocelyn didn't say anything.

"It's good to see you, Mom," Alec said quietly, a somber smile on his face. "My condolences on the death of your husband."

Jocelyn smoothed his hair back and said, "He stopped being the man I loved a very long time ago, Alexander. Especially after what he did to you, and Clary and the Herondale boy and - "

"And your son," Alec finished for her. "Where is he? Did you find him?"

"He's dead, too. Jace and Isabelle got him. Alec, you need to know something... Jonathan, he... he killed Max," Clary said.

"I know," Alec replied. "He told me."

"Alec - "

"If it all the same to you, Mom, I'd rather not talk about it."

"You have to know that - "

"I already know everything, Mom."

"Alec, you deserve an explanation for this," Clary said. "She lied to you your entire life. She lied to us."

"Clary, that's enough."

"How can you be okay with not growing up with your real family? How can you ever forgive her for that?"

"I can forgive her because I know that she..." Alec trailed off. "Having met my 'real' family, I can tell you one thing with certainty. I'd pick her and you. Every time."

Alec turned to Jocelyn and remembered Magnus once telling him and Clary that Jocelyn wasn't the kind of woman who would cry easily. "Mom?" He asked quietly, trying not to cry himself. "I forgive you because I know you did it for us."

"Alec, sweetheart, I -"

"Let me finish. I had a lot of time to think about what you did when you were asleep. It's been a month since I've spoken to you. I think that was enough time for me to make up my mind. I'm not going to deny that ethically, taking me from my parents was wrong. It was kidnapping, even though it was in my best interests. But I can't deny that I exist today, like this, as a person who is proud of himself, because you protected me from the Clave. So I forgive you for leaving the Shadow World behind for us. And I forgive you because I know you won't forgive yourself." He ran a hand through his dark hair and asked, "Do you remember when I told you I was gay?"

Jocelyn looked surprised for a moment. "I remember. You acted like you were angry, defiant, but I knew you were more scared and worried than anything else."

Alec gave her a sort of half-smile. "You said you didn't understand it, but it didn't change the fact that I was your son. That you would always love me because I was your son."

Jocelyn threw her arms around Alec again and sobbed into his chest.

"My boy, my beautiful boy," she cried.

"I know why you took me with you when you left Idris," Alec said. "I would have been turned into a weapon by the Clave if you hadn't. I'm sure Robert Lightwood would have been delighted to hand the vessel of an angel over to them. But you saved me from that. And I forgive you. Just ell me one thing," Alec said, "Was I a replacement for Jonathan? Was I replacement for your real son?"

"Oh, Alec, no, you were never that. Never. You are my real son. You didn't grow inside my womb, you grew inside my heart. And I thank the stars every day for bringing you into my life. I took you from the Fairchild manor that day because it was burning down, and you - you were in the bushes and I couldn't stay there. I knew what Valentine had done - and the thought of - the thought of leaving you to the Clave's mercy was enough to make the decision for me, but that doesn't in any way, negate the fact that you are my son in every way that matters."

"I needed to hear you say that," Alec said. "I needed to know - I promise you, I'm never going to doubt you again, Mom. Never."

* * *

Thoughts? Reviews?


	14. Chapter 14

Circa _City of Fallen Angels_

* * *

"Come in," said the cool voice and Alec turned the doorknob and stepped into the director's office.

"Oh, look who decided to grace us with his presence! My favourite student!" Professor O'Connell said half-sarcastically, and Alec winced.

"Professor, I know I've missed rehearsals and I've come to apologize for-" Alec began.

"Fray, you're here on a scholarship and you're throwing it away as if it means _nothing_ ," she cut him off promptly. "It is _completely_ unacceptable for you to vanish for _weeks at a time_ without any explanations whatsoever when you have a _lead role_ in the annual Tennessee Williams play. 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof' is not a _joke_ , and as a member of the LGBT community I expected you to take it more seriously. Miss White tells me that you've been dealing with... family issues, but when you need a leave of absence you talk to me _directly_. You have thirty seconds to explain your behaviour."

Alec opened his mouth and then shut it.

"Well? Nothing to say for yourself?" she snapped.

"I would tell you, but you'll never believe me," Alec said.

"Fray, I'm beginning to question your dedication to the craft. I took a chance on you when I cast you as Tom last year, and it paid off. You're one of the youngest students I've ever put in a lead role. I'd hoped you wouldn't let your success get to your head, but clearly, it has. There's no place for slackers in my productions, you know that." She looked so disappointed in him it made him feel like he was an inch tall.

Alec hung his head. He liked Professor O'Connell, she'd seen something in him that he hadn't been able to see in himself, and now he'd disappointed her by allowing himself to be swept up into the Shadow World and forget that his real place was here at university, in the mundane world. And what was he supposed to say? 'Hey, Teach, nice to see you again, I'm sorry I blew off both you and my dream of pursuing acting to save the world, but it couldn't be avoided because a millennia-old angel hijacked my body.'?

"I'm giving you one last chance." O'Connell said, "Talk, or I'm giving the part of Brick to someone else. I'm sure Miss White, as fond as she is of you, would not be so devastated at the loss of her current onstage husband that she emulates your behaviour and disappears for a week or two."

And the dam burst, Alec's eyes meeting his teacher's. "I found out that I was kidnapped when I was a baby by a crazed serial killer. You remember my mom, Jocelyn? I just found out that she rescued me from the kidnapper's house when it burned to the ground and brought me up as her own. My birth parents are influential, bigoted sociopaths that have three more children, one of whom was murdered by the same serial killer that kidnapped me. My birth parents want to fight my mom for custody of me so that they can cure me of my sinful ways because I happen to be gay. I'm lucky I turned eighteen last week. That way my homophobic father can't drag me off to the middle of nowhere as he threatened and lock me up until I'm straight. Additionally, the serial killer that kidnapped me came back to wreak havoc because he has a grudge against my birth family and put my mom into a coma."

O'Connell's eyebrow twitched. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, Ma'am. I am completely serious. You asked me for the truth, the truth is that I was in the FBI's witness protection for a major part of my absence until the serial killer was apprehended. I couldn't come here and talk to you, obviously, and the feds didn't give me access to a phone."

Professor O'Connell looked like she was at a loss for words. "You're lucky you're one of my most talented students or I'd have you thrown out of the production before you could blink. Might I ask what happened to the serial killer?"

"He's... dead. One of the feds got him. I can't give you any more details."

"Dear Lord. And what about your mother?"

"She's awake, now." Alec said, "And she'll be okay."

"Thank God. Stay out of trouble, at least until after opening night. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Professor O'Connell,' Alec replied meekly.

"Get out of my office and onto the stage, Fray."

Alec stood up and opened the door.

"And Alec?" Professor O'Connell said, "I'm glad you're alright. With your talent, you're going places, kid. But things like this, they're the skeletons in your closet that take away your chances of becoming a success. There are thousands of kids just as talented as you in this city waiting for their big break. What makes you so special? Dedication, Alec, dedication and hard work. You want to be a serious stage actor, you have to put in the effort."

* * *

"CLARISSA ADELE FRAY!" Alec thundered in fury once everyone else had left the auditorium. Professor O'Connell had given him her signature disapproving look as she walked out, the disapproving look that said, 'Why is there family drama in my auditorium?'

"ALEXANDER CECIL FRAY." Clary thundered back, slightly less loudly.

Alec glared at her.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I thought we were randomly yelling out each other's full names," she said.

"Cecil? Your middle name is Cecil?" Adrienne chortled, wiping her face with a towel as she joined them.

Alec turned his glare on her. "Sure, _Rachel_ \- "

"Woah, hakuna your tatas, Fray the elder, I was just kidding," she said defensively, holding up her towel in surrender. "There's no need to break out the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. jokes."

Clary frowned. "Wait, your middle name's from F.R.I.E.N.D.S? I thought you're half-Ind-"

"My middle name isn't from F.R.I.E.N.D.S., Picasso, I was born in '87. The TV show came out in '94. My mum was a New Yorker, you know," Adrienne reminded.

"Picasso?" Jace asked.

Adrienne smirked. "It's what I call Alec's precious baby sister."

"I didn't know your mom was from New York," Clary said sulkily, pointedly ignoring the baby comment.

"Alec, you didn't tell her? This is where my parents met and fell in love. There's this long story about family drama and forbidden romance in there, but anyway, Picasso, what brings you and tall, blond and adorable to rehearsals?" she asked.

"Adorable?" Jace, who stood at least ten inches taller than Adrienne, was stunned.

"You're about the same age as my younger brother," Adrienne said. "Same height, too. What are you, sixteen?"

"Good guess," Alec congratulated her.

"Aren't you a bit young to have so many tattoos?" she asked Jace. She turned to Alec, "You know, if Aryan came home like this my step-mum would have grounded him until he got married and moved out."

Alec bit back the burst of laughter threatening to give away the fact that Adrienne knew exactly why Jace had 'tattoos'. "Why would your brother need to get married to move out?" he finally forced out.

"Bro, I told you how things are done back home. You live with your parents until they die unless, you know, you leave the country to go to university. Or you get married to someone your parents don't like, then you definitely need to get a place of your own," she said, zoning out. Then she made a face as if she'd smelled something bad. "And the wife always goes and lives with her husband, so if Aryan marries a girl my dear mother actually likes, he might end up staying with our parents forever. Sucker. No wait, Dad will probably buy a house for him and his new wife to live in."

"Like he did for you, Rachel Green?"

"Screw you, Fray, if I'm anyone from F.R.I.E.N.D.S., I'm Phoebe." Adrienne declared. "And lay off the girl with her own apartment! I'm getting an education here, not sitting on my ass and spending daddy's money. I doubt my step-mum would approve of my dad paying for a house for me and my _wife_ , even if Marcy and I ever tie the knot. Gay people aren't allowed to exist in my country, remember?"

Clary inquired, "Just how rich are you?"

Adrienne flushed, suddenly very embarrassed. "Dad's into real estate back home," she stammered in a spectacular failure of a non-answer. "Moving on, Picasso, what brings you and blondie here in the middle of rehearsal? I think our esteemed director was going to pop a vein. Your brother, too. One of these days he's going to defenestrate someone."

"What's 'defenestrate'?" Jace asked.

Alec gave Adrienne a significant look, sighed and said, "Defenestration is the act of throwing something out of a window."

"I love that word," Adrienne said blissfully, and floated away from them to go backstage.

"Is she drunk?" Jace asked.

Alec sighed again, "Nah, just Adrienne. And exhausted. We all are, it's been a long day. Speaking of long days, what the hell are you doing at my rehearsal? Again?! Opening night is in less than a week. Are you trying to get me thrown out?"

"Pfft, Alec, your teachers love you." Clary scoffed. "They think you're god's gift to theatre."

Alec sighed. "What's up?"

"It's Simon," Clary said.

Alec's back straightened. All traces of weariness in his face vanished. "Tell me everything."

* * *

"You're JOKING." Adrienne did not look amused. "Tell me you're joking, Fray."

"I'm not." Alec said, looking contrite.

Adrienne folded her arms. "Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND? No. Absolutely not. I will NOT allow a vampire into my home to be my fucking roommate."

"Please?" he pleaded.

She glared. "Alec, stop breaking out the puppy dog eyes. You know how I feel about the puppy dog eyes. The answer is no. My girlfriend is a werewolf. The second Simon sets foot in my apartment, he'll know."

"So what?" Alec asked.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'SO WHAT"?" she shouted. "Do you know how many people know about Marcy and I? As in, Marcy the werewolf dating Adrienne the thespian?"

"That rhymes," he interjected weakly.

Adrienne shot him a glare. "Four," she snapped, "Marcy, you, me and the warlock you're seeing. Nobody else knows that I know about the Shadow World or that I have the sight, either, and people can't know that."

"Please?" Alec pleaded. "Just until we figure out something else. I promise, it won't take long. A couple of nights, tops. His mother threw him out of the house, and he can't stay in the Institute. Magnus is at the Spiral Labyrinth, so he can't put him up, either, and there just isn't place at Luke's for all of us. Look, I wouldn't be asking if you didn't have the spare bedroom. And I promise he'll behave. And he'll keep his mouth shut about you, I promise."

Adrienne sighed. "Five conditions, and if he doesn't agree with all of them, he stays out. One: no blood. I don't want to open my fridge at six AM to get out a carton of milk and find bags of O+ instead. Two: if he tries anything, he's dead. That includes drinking my blood. Three: he is NOT allowed into my bedroom. Four: he will not bring anyone else into my house without permission. And five: he can't tell anyone a thing about anything he sees, smells, hears, tastes or touches in my house."

"Might I mention that he's got the Mark of Cain?" Alec asked weakly.

She gave him a puzzled look, "The Mark of what, now? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Bring Count Dracula over after dinner. His dinner and mine, if you don't mind. I'll have the guest bedroom ready by then," she said.

"He's indestructible," Alec informed her.

"I beg your pardon?" she inquired in a tone of voice that sent alarms blaring in Alec's head.

"Simon is indestructible. And harm inflicted upon him will be reflected seven-fold on the one who tries to harm him," Alec continued quietly. "That's what the Mark of Cain does."

"Alexander Cecil Fray," she said icily, "It may not have occurred to you by now, but I just so happen to be human. Are you actively trying to get me killed? I can assure you that if you wanted a different co-star for opening night next week you should have said so much earlier."

"Damn it, Adrienne, this isn't a joke! Simon's a kid, okay? He's the same freaking age as Jace, as your brother -"

"Don't bring my brother into this, you prick-" she snarled.

"I'm not trying to!" Alec cried and then his voice softened. "Jesus Christ, Adri, do you think Simon wanted to be a vampire? To be shunned by other vampires and for his mother to throw him out of his own home? He didn't ask for any of this! I've known him since he was six-years-old, he's a good guy and I swear to you on my life that he won't hurt you in any way. Do you trust me?"

She folded her arms almost indignantly. "That's not fair. I don't trust anyone, Alec, I told you that when we became friends."

"Yeah, sure, friends." Alec said in sardonic amusement. "What about when we became best friends? Because that's what you are to me, Adri. You're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you. You're literally the only one not completely caught up in the bloody shadow world who knows about all the crap I have to deal with and still sticks around."

"I stick around because you're one of the best people I know. I didn't expect you to try and emotionally manipulate me into putting myself in danger!" Adrienne snapped.

Alec's mouth fell open.

Her eyes widened. "No, I didn't mean that," she gasped, "I'm sorry, Alec, oh my god, son of a - I didn't mean that." She shook her head vigorously and then smiled placidly. "Of course I trust you. Simon can stay with me."

Alec squinted at her. "You sure?"

"Of course," her smile widened.

"You're the best, Adrienne," he said finally.

She laughed, and at least that was a real laugh, humour finding its' way into her face. "You _would_ think that. Believe me, you're going to be the one facing Marcy's wrath when she finds out about this."

* * *

Here's a chapter about Alec the Actor and Adrienne the Thespian.

So, I don't know how much you guys like Adrienne or want her in the story. Honestly, I've got an entire backstory for her that ties into the Shadow World and I want to include it but I'd really want to know what you guys would like to see. Let me know in the reviews, I can't, for the life of me, figure out the poll or voting thing other people keep talking about on this website.

Also, cookies for the person who figures out the significance of Alec's middle name in the SNAF verse (Or, bonus votes about the Adrienne issue, since I can't technically send you biscuits over the internet).

Cheers!

A.S

(Post Script -

Constructive criticism,

Why do you give me none?

Or perhaps leave a good review

Come on, come along, just one!)


End file.
